Best 3882 quotes in «fire quotes» category

True love is like a bird of many colours, at times, soft and comforting, at others, wild and intense. Yet, it is a fire we all desire. Don’t be afraid of its intense force. It is a spark that consumes the heart, but it quenches the thirst of the seeking soul.

Trump didn't divide America. He just doused us with gasoline and fanned the flames.

Truth is much like fire. Hard to understand, ever-changing.

Unfaithfulness is the fire extinguisher of love.

Un feu, une nuit d'encre, les escarbilles mêlées aux étoiles: décor propice aux confidences. N'a-t-on jamais remarqué que, devant les flammes, les secrets se révèlent, et surgissent les souvenirs?

...'unless you convert to Orthodoxy, you too will follow your Pope down that valley, through the scorching fire. We will watch you from this balcony,' he added, 'but of course it will then be too late to save you.' I smiled, but Fr. Theophanes was in full swing and clearly in no mood for joking. 'No one can truly know what that day will be like.' He shook his head gravely. 'But some of our Orthodox fathers have had visions. Fire-fire that will never end, terrible, terrible fire - will come from the throne of Christ, just like it does on the icons. The saints-those who are to be saved, in router words the Orthodox Church-will fly in the air to meet Christ. But sinners and all non-Orthodox will be separated from the Elect. The damned will be pushed and prodded by devils down through the fire, down from the Valley of Joseph, past here-in fact exactly the route those Israeli hikers took today-down, down to the Mouth of Hell.' 'Is that nearby?' 'Certainly,' said Theophanes, stroking his beard. 'The Mouth of Hell will open up near the Dead Sea.' 'That is in the Bible?' 'Of course,' said Theophanes. 'Everything I am telling you is true.

Until the police internal affairs system starts prosecuting and firing a substantial number of corrupt and incompetent police officers, I will not be lighting it up blue!

Used to be a hobo right smart. back in the thirties. They wasnt no work I dont care what you could do. I was ridin through the mountains one night, state of Colorado. Dead of winter it was and bitter cold. I had just a smidgin of tobacco, bout enough for one or two smokes. I was in one of them old slatsided cars and I'd been up and down in it like a dog tryin to find some place where the wind wouldnt blow. Directly I scrunched up in a corner and rolled me a smoke and lit it and thowed the match down. Well, they was some sort of stuff in the floor about like tinder and it caught fire. I jumped up and stomped on it and it aint done nothin but burn faster. Wasnt two minutes the whole car was afire. I run to the door and got it open and we was goin up this grade through the mountains in the snow with the moon on it and it was just blue looking and dead quiet out there and them big old black pine trees going by. I jumped for it and lit in a snowbank and what I'm goin to tell you you'll think peculiar but it's the god's truth. That was in nineteen and thirty one and if I live to be a hunnerd year old I dont think I'll ever see anything as pretty as that train on fire goin up that mountain and around the bend and them flames lightin up the snow and the trees and the night.

Verstehst du, Frauen sind wie Feuer, wie Flammen. Manche Frauen sind wie Kerzen, hell und freundlich. Andere sind wie einzelne Funken oder wie ein Glühwürmchen, dem man an einem Sommerabend nachjagt. Manche sind wie ein Lagerfeuer - Licht und Wärme für eine Nacht, und es stört sie nicht, wenn man sie am nächsten Tag zurücklässt. Manche Frauen gleichen auch einem Herdfeuer - sie sehen nach nichts aus, brennen aber tagaus tagein. Dianne aber ... Dianne ist wie ein Funkenregen, der sich von einer scharfen Eisenkante ergießt, die Gott an einen Schleifstein hält. Ein faszinierender Anblick. Vielleicht berührt man die Funken sogar eine Sekunde lang. Aber man kann sie nicht festhalten. - Sie wird dir das Herz brechen ...

Vincent laughed. "No, you still need to look like a Helian." "So I should burn everything to a crisp?" "Well, that would definitely get your mother's attention, but I think that she's looking for something more sophisticated and less... scary.

Violence is rather a strange phenomenon that can be compared to fire, once out of control it’s loyal to no one, not even to the person who started it.

Was he shiny and bright and something sucked it out of him? Cecilia thought. But stars are a load of fire, maybe his were flamed out, but could they burn out again? After Cecilia drew him and his empty eyes, she wanted to write those words down, it felt like song lyrics. And she did. Making it in bold letters.

Watch how your enthusiasm can light up another’s fire. This is how we wake up the world.

Water is greater than rain. Air is mightier than wind. Heat is tougher than fire. Light is stronger than sunshine.

We almost made love with fire, fire in our eyes, fire in our souls, and even in our bones.

We create our own version of God through the inevitable evolution of cultures. We all begin in Fire.

We cannot imagine a life without poetry. Poetry lights the fire in our hearts. Poetry keeps the sparks flying. Poetry makes us happy. Poetry makes us sad. Poetry brings all the colors of the rainbow into our lives. Poetry makes our lives sparkle. Poetry makes our life live. Poetry is life.

We burn a hot fire here; it melts down all concealment.

We dare not talk of the darkness for fear it will infect us. We dare not talk of the fire, for fear it will destroy us. And so we live in the half-light, Like our mothers before us. Come to the fire, Feel it warm your skin. Come to the fire, Feel it burn in your belly, Shine out through your eyes. Come dance in the fire, Let it fuel your prayers.

Well. I always like it when you kiss me. Do you? You're good at it. Well, that's lucky, because I'll always be kissing you.

We get along like a house on fire these days.

Well, most people would have said `thank you' after they'd been given help, and then I would have responded to that with `you're welcome'. I figured we'd skip straight to my part since social graces aren't your forte.

WE have to take care of this world. WE can't wait any longer. WE need to stop using fossil fuels. Get behind the green new deal. WE are running out of time. Stop being distracted by reality TV shows in the White House. Climate Change is what Reality looks like. The mud slides are coming. The rain is coming. The timing is all off. The rain could have saved California. Now it is coming to bury the things we've done. This is what you and I are leaving our kids. Wake up. Love one another. Save one another. The Earth is talking to us. LOVE. - more at the neil young archives website

We hold on to poetry because it lights a fire in our soul and keeps our bodies warm.

We Lesbian Avengers have built this shrine. It stands for our fear. It stands for our grief. It stands for our rage. And it enshrines our intention to live fully and completely as who we are, wherever we are. We take the fire of action into our hearts. And we take it into our bodies. And we stand, here and now, to make it known that we are here, and here we will stay. Our fear does not consume us. Their fire will not consume us. We take that fire, and we make it our own.

We remember though all the firelit glow Of a great hearth's gleam and glare, And we looked for a space at each happy face And the love that was written there.

We need a spark to lit a fire inside us. A spark is an inspiration to make art, a fear to find courage, and a pain to provoke strength. A spark is unplanned and unexpected incident that happens in the middle of your ordinary life. After that, it leaves a fire burning in your heart. A fire to achieve, a fire that will keep you going!

We never burned right.

We seek the fire of the spark that is already within us.

Were the earth as smooth as a ball bearing, it might be beautiful seen from another planet, as the rings of Saturn are. But here we live and move; we wander up and down the banks of the creek, we ride a railway through the Alps, and the landscape shifts and changes. Were the earth smooth, our brains would be smooth as well; we would wake, blink, walk two steps to get the whole picture and lapse into dreamless sleep. Because we are living people, and because we are on the receiving end of beauty, another element necessarily enters the question. The texture of space is a condition of time. Time is the warp and matter the weft of woven texture of beauty in space, and death is the hurtling shuttle… What I want to do, then, is add time to the texture, paint the landscape on an unrolling scroll, and set the giant relief globe spinning on it stand.

We shall take a star out of the skies and shall set thousands of worlds on fire...

Western corporate governments are far more likely to damage your health or kill you prematurely than anyone from North Korea.

Wet are the lips for the fire extinguish. (Humides sont les lèvres Pour le feu éteindre)

What if we fan the flames of Delight while we get to play in the dappled sunlight at the edge of time?

We were the only humans - the only forms of life, in fact - for hundreds of miles in each direction, unreaching and unreachable as we rocketed back towards civilisation.

What are you doing?" Alain asked. "Starting a fire, of course." Mari held up the thing in her hand. "It's a fire-starter. A really simple device. Haven't you ever seen one?" Alain shook his head. "Never. That thing seems very complicated. I do not understand how it can work." "How do you start fires?" That was a Guild secret. Or was it? The elders had told him that no Mechanic could understand how it worked. What would this Mechanic say if he told her? "I use my mind to channel power to create a place where it is hot, altering the nature of the illusion there," Alain explained, "and then use my mind to put that heat on what I want to burn." "Oh," Mechanic Mari said. "Is that actually how you visualize the process?" "That is how it is done," Alain said. "That's...interesting." She grinned. "So, instead of making fire by doing something complicated or hard to understand like striking a flint, you just alter the nature of reality. That is a lot simpler.

What the hell? Die in a fire, youth. Die in a fire.

What is there about fire that's so lovely? No matter what age we are, what draws us to it?" Beatty blew out the flame and lit it again. "It's perpetual motion; the thing man wanted to invent but never did. Or almost perpetual motion. If you let it go on, it'd burn our lifetimes out. What is fire? It's a mystery. Scientists give us gobbledegook about friction and molecules. But they don't really know. Its real beauty is that it destroys responsibility and consequences. A problem gets too burdensome, then into the furnace with it. Now, Montag, you're a burden. And fire will lift you off my shoulders, clean, quick, sure; nothing to rot later. Antibiotic, aesthetic, practical.

What?” The corner of his mouth turned up, his white teeth gleaming in the light. “Just thinking how hot you are.” He scoffed and playfully rolled his eyes. “Thanks—but aren’t all firefighters hot? I mean, we do basically live in fire.

When a fire rises, don't be quick to worry. Find the purpose of the fire, if it's negative, water it down, if positive, feed the flames.

When I said these words, all the heat in my body seemed to rise to my face. I felt I might float up into the air, just like a piece of ash from a fire.

When I am gone, break the night. Set my remains on fire, so I can still be your light. For I am forever indebted to you. O people of the world, O love, I am eternally yours.

[W]hen all else fails, kill it with fire.

When at last we have to die it will be time enough to get cold. While we are on fire let us seethe and boil.

When his flame falls, my lightning rises, and so on.

When I was commissioning a brand new solar photovoltaic utility site, I came across metal tubes installed into the fuseholders that were marked up as 100 amp fuses on the diagram. Needless to say, it had already gone on fire.

When I was a child I burnt the back of my right hand on a hot iron. I can't recall the pain, but there's an eye-shaped scar as testament to it. As a teenager I used to think it was the all seeing eye of the anti-Christ and that I was the devil incarnate. Or at least a minion. It was my right hand, innit? What I do remember though is my father, or Dad as we called him, abandoning the polite Abbu, telling me not to cry and to be patient because the fires of hell were seventy times hotter than the fire of the iron.

When Jesus enters a place revival fire begins.

When Jesus enters a country the fire of revival starts burning there

When people are cruel it's often said that they have no heart, only a cold space or lump of ice in their chest. This was never true of Avalon. She had no heart, everyone knew, but there was nothing cold about her. In her chest burned an enormous coal, white-hot, brighter than the North Star. North knew the truth about Avalon: she was made of fire, and she would burn them all.