Best 3882 quotes in «fire quotes» category

The books in the library were old, rotted, and there was no one left in the world to read them, but Kira made sure that none of them went into the fire. It seemed wrong.

The boys were dancing. The pile was so rotten, and now so tinder-dry, that whole limbs yielded passionately to the yellow flames that poured upwards and shook a great beards of flame twenty feet in the air. For yards round the fire the heat was like a blow, and the breeze was a river of sparks. Trunks crumbled to a white dust.

The burning flame is the fierce fire.

The central ideas of Christianity — an angry God and vicarious atonement — are contrary to every fact in nature, as also to the better aspirations of the human heart; they are, in our present stage of enlightenment, absurd, preposterous, and blasphemous propositions. Christians well know that the much-decorated statue of the Church, as it now stands, is not of pure chiseled marble, but of clay, cemented together by blood and tears and hardened in the fires of hatred and persecution. And still we hear the cry, 'The whole world for Christ'.

The dark sky seemed to swallow the moon, as Samantha stood alone on the deserted highway.

The day when the fire that we had lit in our minds reaches our hearts, we will start turning every person that we come in contact with into ashes. We become the ghosts that we always feared.

The day she realised, it was not about the world but was all about her, she grew the wings. The day she understood she was not answerable to any of them who always blamed and pointed her, she had the fire blazing in her eyes. She raised and soared towards the sky. The whole world looked at her in awe and wished if only they could be her. She was not confined to be on the ground anymore. She had the wings of fire and she left a trail everywhere she went, for other to follow.

The demon at length fell to singing a gentle, flickering little song. It was not in any language Sophie knew - or she thought not, until she distinctly heard the word "saucepan" in it several times...

The dragon spits fire, what extinguishes its tears. When we live in rancor, we are born to be old. (Le dragon crache du feu, - Ce qui éteint ses larmes. - Quand on vit de rancune, - On naît pour être vieux.)

The fire is a flame.

The fire of revival that destroys all principalities and powers also defeats and demolishes the oppressor – the devil

The fire in you burns as fiercely as it did when I first met you.

The fire? It has been alive as long as I have. We talk and think together all night long. It’s like a book to me – the only book I ever learned to read; and many an old story it tells me. It’s music, for I should know its voice among a thousand, and there are other voices in its roar. It has its pictures too. You don’t know how many strange faces and different scenes I trace in the red-hot coals. It’s my memory, that fire, and shows me all my life.

The fire alarm went off. Fire engines came racing; we all rushed out on the gravel drive, everyone thinking it was us. In fact, one of the elderly residents of Saltram had left a pan on the oven in her flat. Apparently this happens all the time. The tenant in question is appearing as an extra -- playing one of the cooks.

The color-patches of vision part, shift, and reform as I move through space in time. The present is the object of vision, and what I see before me at any given second is a full field of color patches scattered just so. The configuration will never be repeated. Living is moving; time is a live creek bearing changing lights. As I move, or as the world moves around me, the fullness of what I see shatters. “Last forever!” Who hasn’t prayed that prayer? You were lucky to get it in the first place. The present is a freely given canvas. That it is constantly being ripped apart and washed downstream goes without saying; it is a canvas, nevertheless. But there is more to the present than a series of snapshots. We are not merely sensitized film; we have feelings, a memory for information and an eidetic memory for the imagery of our pasts. Our layered consciousness is a tiered track for an unmatched assortment of concentrically wound reels. Each one plays out for all of life its dazzle and blur of translucent shadow-pictures; each one hums at every moment its own secret melody in its own unique key. We tune in and out. But moments are not lost. Time out of mind is time nevertheless, cumulative, informing the present. From even the deepest slumber you wake with a jolt- older, closer to death, and wiser, grateful for breath. But time is the one thing we have been given, and we have been given to time. Time gives us a whirl. We keep waking from a dream we can’t recall, looking around in surprise, and lapsing back, for years on end. All I want to do is stay awake, keep my head up, prop my eyes open, with toothpicks, with trees.

The fire in some people is burning and taking them places. Others have their fire dying slowly because their passion is dwindling. For some, the drive that kept them going is lost, and thus, has extinguished that fire that was once ablaze; they are now waiting for the next opportunity to ignite the fire in them one more time. Others are also at the point where the fire which was once in them has been totally quenched by a heavy rain rendering the source of fuel at their disposal void such that rekindling it becomes impossible. Remember, you are the problem and you are the solution to that problem whichever category you find yourself. Don't look anywhere else for answers as you are the answer to your problems. You ought to start to take steps to get back to the ladder where your flames of success will begin to rekindle. It's possible if only you believe.

The flames rose and the properties devalued into ash.

The flame of fire burns within.

The greatest ideas are the simplest. Now there was something to be done they worked with passion.

The house was burning, the yellow-red sky was like the sunset...Nothing would be left, the golden ferns and the silver ferns, the orchids, the ginger lilies and the roses...When they had finished, there would be nothing left but blackened walls and the mounting stone. That was always left. That could not be stolen or burned.

... the house is on fire, but go ahead - finish painting the verandah...

The hero was the sort of character you could feel yourself falling in love with, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that he wasn't real

The joy of the open fireplace is playing with fire without being accused of playing with fire.

The light of fire is a holy flame.

...then the rushing Pequod, freighted with savages, and laden with fire, and burning a corpse, and plunging into that blackness of darkness, seemed the material counterpart of her monomaniac commander's soul.

There in bed, happiness comes over me. Not like something that belongs to me, but like a wheel of fire rolling through the room and the world.

There is a fire that burns in soul.

There is a flame, a flame that shines inside of you. Let your flame out. Let your flame illuminate the darkness. There is never true darkness in the following of your dreams. Follow your passion. Set fire to your world with your passion.

There is nothing like passion. The fire that burns in our heart.

There is nothing that can defeat you if it does not first capture your mind.

There's a few things even fire can't destroy.

There's fire and steel at my core, and no world would break me unless I let it.

There's no lie in his smile, no veil 'cross his eyes. He breathes fire too hot for a plastic disguise.

There's nothing wrong with the fire.. if you don't get too close. - Patch

There was something else,--something quite undefinable, that gave a singular glow and radiance to the whole countenance, and suggested the burning of a light through alabaster,--a creeping of some subtle fire through the veins which made the fair body seem the mere reflection of some greater fairness within.

The sea may catch fire, the planets may collide in space, the sun may quench off its heat, but what we understand is that our peace is like a river in our souls; it's surface may wave about in turbulence, but it's bottom is cool and gently calm!

These hands elate my life, choke me, broil my bosom, spank me, give fire to my words, my words, mother, my heart beats in my words.

The smell of smoke lingered in the air, indicating something had burned. There was also a hint of barbecue meat combined with rotten meat.

The universe is math on fire.

The Warrior knows that no man is an island. He cannot fight alone; whatever his plan, he depends on other people. He needs to discuss his strategy, to ask for help, and, in moments of relaxation, to have someone with whom he can sit by the fire, someone he can regale with tales of battle.

The wind forgets, but the flame remembers.

The word is my weapon. FIRE!

The world seemed to go red. He wanted to scream his outrage, to charge at Skarn and tear the murdering bastard's face off with his bare teeth. But he knew that meant certain death. No, he had to be ice. Not fire, but ice.

The writer Richard Manning has argued that 'the most destructive force in the American West is its commanding views, because they foster the illusion that we command.

They’d reached the point of no return, and she wanted to throw herself into the fire until the flames melted away the years of ice that claimed her.

They lit her wings with the flames, but she raised to the sky soaring over the clouds until the whole sky caught fire. She flew staring at the destruction with her cold eyes, while the clouds came down as the balls of fire and burnt everyone, who tried to take her wings away into ashes.

They tell us the greatest love story is how water fell in love with fire. Or how satan fell in love with God. But the greatest love story to me is how I didn’t notice myself falling, when I fell in love with you

They tell us the only way to move on is to forget. “Forgive,” they say. Realise that you deserve better. That maybe they deserve better. You can't fight fire with fire. Extinguish it once and for all. "Do not look back," they say. They don't tell you that only one thing is needed. Only one: love. When you are filled to the brim with love, you only emanate love. You become lover and love itself. Only then will you love even the very people you wish to hate.

They were opposites in one way They were similar in another But they felt real with each other They felt alive with each other They understood their silences even when one would forget the other and be busy with work and struggles of life And when they finally spoke to each other, their conversation sparked a fire in the atmosphere!

They want me to contain the raging fires within me. They need me to appreciate glowing embers, to understand that even weak flames need to be managed with a lot of careful planning.