Best 37 quotes in «fireworks quotes» category

I wanted to do justice to texts that are in verse in their original, so I tried to invest my version with a comparable poetic power; hence even more literary fireworks there.

I'm captivated by you, baby, like a firework show.

The Sputnik is just to me like a firework, a rocket, a new invention.

Kiss is a Fourth of July fireworks show with a backbeat.

There are no preconditions for jealousy. You don't have to be right, you don't have to be reasonable. Take Othello. He was neither right nor reasonable, and Desdemona ended up dead. I wouldn't mind Leanne ending up dead. I wouldn't mind exploding her into fireworks of peacock and pearl.

Sometimes love isn't fireworks. Sometimes, love just comes softly.

What church could compete with the fireworks of the pure soul?

What's funny is we were doing some fire at work the other day and it was reminding me of all the firework I got to do as Havok, because a lot of that was as practical as you could get.

Women, somehow, have the same fear of witty men as of fireworks.

Assuming what people want is about as controlled as using fireworks to start a fire.

And she learned that you couldn’t stockpile anything that mattered, really. Feelings, people, songs, sex, fireworks: they existed only in time, and when it was over, so were they.

You are like fireworks. You go out into your children, your friends, your society, and the whole world.

You didn't have to go to the fireworks with him. Or - or let him fondle you." "Fondle?" Raisa raised her eyebrows, "When did I mention fondling?

About fireworks? About love. About how we often mistake love for fireworks - for drama and dysfunction. But real love is very quiet, very still. It's boring, if seen from the perspective of high drama. Love is deep and calm - and constant. I imagine you do give Kathy love - in the true sense of the word. Whether or not she is capable of giving it back to you is another question.

A tired man lay down his head in a dusty room so dim, and for so long his wife did shake and yell to waken him. Meanwhile his thoughts, his dreams, did stir of sandy, red bullfights, of powder-blasts in the air and carnival delights. Yet still his wife was in despair in a dusty room so dim, for she knew death was a whore not far from tempting him.

At the water's edge, barrels of pitch blazed like huge bonfires. Their reflection, crimson as the rising moon, crept to meet us in long, wide stripes. The burning barrels threw light on their own smoke and on the long human shadows that flitted about the fire; but further to the sides and behind them, where the velvet ringing rushed from, was the same impenetrable darkness. Suddenly slashing it open, the golden ribbon of a rocket soared skywards; it described an arc and, as if shattering against the sky, burst and came sifting down in sparks. - Easter Night

Borkin: Ladies and gentlemen, why are you so glum? Sitting there like a jury after it's been sworn in! ... Let's think up something. What would you like? Forfeits, tug of war, catch, dancing, fireworks?

I ignite the wick, and the firework takes flight. In that moment, I wish my existence were as simple as being set on fire and exploding in the sky.

Colored lights blink on and off, racing across the green boughs. Their reflections dance across exquisite glass globes and splinter into shards against tinsel thread and garlands of metallic filaments that disappear underneath the other ornaments and finery. Shadows follow, joyful, laughing sprites. The tree is rich with potential wonder. All it needs is a glance from you to come alive.

Every reader wants the same thing: to open the cover of a book and watch the words explode like fireworks off the page.

...[F]ireworks had for her a direct and magical appeal. Their attraction was more complex than that of any other form of art. They had pattern and sequence, colour and sound, brilliance and mobility; they had suspense, surprise, and a faint hint of danger; above all, they had the supreme quality of transience, which puts the keenest edge on beauty and makes it touch some spring in the heart which more enduring excellences cannot reach.

Matter,” Vittoria repeated. “Blossoming out of nothing. An incredible display of subatomic fireworks. A miniature universe springing to life. He proved not only that matter can be created from nothing, but that the Big Bang and Genesis can be explained simply by accepting the presence of an enormous source of energy.” “You mean God?” Kohler demanded. “God, Buddha, The Force, Yahweh, the singularity, the unicity point—call it whatever you like—the result is the same. Science and religion support the same truth—pure energy is the father of creation.

I’m gonna pack you into my verses & set fire to the charge, until you explode into the night, recognizing the fireworks you are.

I want to feel them against my bare skin. I want their colourful touch to burn itself into my body and set my blood on fire with chemicals and fury, to drag me from a place of retreat and smothered tears into destruction and gloriously bright fire falling.

One example of a solid but inexplicable fact, ruling all human affairs - your fireworks won't go off while the crowd is around.

Meanwhile the Hemulen was arranging firework set pieces in suitable places. They had Bengal Lights, Blue-Star Rain, Silver Fountains, and Rockets that exploded with stars.

Neke oci svetlucaju kao vatromet.

Sunset is like a firework; when the firework dies, it creates dozens of other beauties: When the sun dies, it creates shining stars, mysterious moonlight, and gleamy lighthouses!

Spring is not a season; it is a mysterious illusionist who sets off fireworks in the depths of our soul!

Thank you,” I said, turning around a little so I could talk to him. “You’re a good friend.” “I know,” he said, as he tightened his hold around me. I leaned back against his chest, resting against him. “Beckett, I–,” I started to say, but he stopped me. “Shh,” he said. “You don’t need to say anything. Just watch the fireworks.

Texting and phone calls, fireworks, blends, café au lait, and music. Yesterday's television. Work and beer. The neighbor's dog, or those strange flowers, the way it smells at Maisen. Those ordinary things I talk about with you. With you... I want to talk about love with you.

The word is my weapon. FIRE!

The celebrations go on for many hours,' said the woman. Above her, in the sky, a firework exploded, showering multi-coloured flames across the stars. 'You can pay fealty at any time.' Another firework tore open the sky, streams of colour painting the woman's shift blue and green, throwing their shadows downwards. For a moment, the woman's shadow self moved against the shadow Fillingham, pressing to him, and then another explosion above them sent them dancing apart, wavering, their edges rimed with yellow and reds, and then the woman was moving again. ("The Cotswold Olimpicks")

It was the first time! Just because there weren’t fireworks the first time doesn’t mean there will never be fireworks. We’re human; we’re adults; we teach each other; we communicate; fireworks don’t just go off, wham-bang; fireworks evolve!’ Awestruck by the utter, asinine nonsense of this metaphor, everyone is still. Into the stillness, the ample woman drops the word ‘Wrong.’ Then she says it again. ‘Wrong…I’m talking about science…Pheromones.’ The woman turns to Cornelia. ‘The chemicals in his body call out. The chemicals in your body answer. It either happens or it doesn’t.’ On top of being dumb, Cornelia is dumbfounded.

Financial crises are like fireworks: they illuminate the sky even as they go pop.

When you meet someone so different from yourself, in a good way, you don’t even have to kiss to have fireworks go off.

Here, in L.A., trust me, there will be fireworks from the canapés right through to the desserts.