Fire Quotes - I want more of this feeling
“As
soon as I turned the key I saw it hanging, the color of fire and sunset. the
colour of flamboyant flowers. ‘If you are buried under a flamboyant tree, ‘ I
said, ‘your soul is lifted up when it flowers. Everyone wants that.’
She
shook her head but she did not move or touch me.”
―
Jean Rhys, Wide Sargasso Sea
“all
theories
like
cliches
shot
to hell,
all
these small faces
looking
up
beautiful
and believing;
I
wish to weep
but
sorrow is
stupid.
I
wish to believe but believe is a
graveyard.
we
have narrowed it down to
the butcherknife
and the
mockingbird
wish
us
luck.”
―
Charles Bukowski, What Matters Most is How Well You Walk Through the Fire
“We
think the fire eats the wood. We are wrong. The wood reaches out to the flame.
The fire licks at what the wood harbors, and the wood gives itself away to that
intimacy, the manner in which we and the world meet each new day.”
―
Jack Gilbert, Collected Poems
“Like
after a prairie fire...It seems like the end of the world. The earth is all
scorched and black and everything green is gone. But after the burning, the
soil is richer, and new things can grow....People are like that, too, you know.
They start over. They find a way.”
―
Celeste Ng, Little Fires Everywhere
“I
was only going to say that heaven did not seem to be my home; and I broke my
heart with weeping to come back to earth; and the angels were so angry that
they flung my out into the middle of the heath on the top of Wuthering Heights;
where I woke sobbing for joy. That will do to explain my secret, as well as the
other. I've no more business to marry Edgar Linton than I have to be in heaven;
and if the wicked man in there had not brought Heathcliff so low, I shouldn't
have thought of it. It would degrade me to marry Heathcliff now; so he shall
never know how I love him: and that, not because he's handsome, but because
he's more myself than I am. What ever our souls are made of, his and mine are
the same; and Linton's is as different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost
from fire.'
Ere
this speech ended, I became sensible of Heathcliff's presence. Having noticed a
slight movement, I turned my head, and saw him rise from the bench, and steal
out noiselessly. He had listened till he heard Catherine say it would degrade
her to marry him, and then he stayed to hear no further.”
―
Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights
“It's
a poem about moths. But it's also a poem about psychopaths.
I
get it copied. And stick it in a frame.
And
now it glowers redoubtably above my desk:an entomological keepsake of the
horizons of existence.
And
the brutal, star-crossed wisdom of those who seek them out.
i
was talking to a moth
the
other evening
he
was trying to break into
an
electric bulb
and
fry himself on the wires
why
do you fellows
pull
this stunt i asked him
because
it is the conventional
thing
for moths or why
if
that had been an uncovered
candle
instead of an electric
light
bulb you would
now
be a small unsightly cinder
have
you no sense
plenty
of it he answered
but
at times we get tired
of
using it
we
get bored with routine
and
crave beauty
and
excitement
fire
is beautiful
and
we know that if we get
too
close it will kill us
but
what does that matter
it
is better to be happy
for
a moment
and
be burned up with beauty
than
to live a long time
and
be bored all the while
so
we wad all our life up
into
one little roll
and
then we shoot the roll
that
is what life is for
it
is better to be part of beauty
our
attitude toward life
is
come easy go easy
we
are like human beings
used
to be before they became
too
civilized to enjoy themselves
and
before i could argue him
out
of his philosophy
he
went and immolated himself
on a
patent cigar lighter
i do
not agree with him
myself
i would rather have
half
the happiness and twice
the
longevity
but
at the same time i wish
there
was something i wanted
as
badly as he wanted to fry himself”
―
Kevin Dutton, The Wisdom of Psychopaths: What Saints, Spies, and Serial Killers
Can Teach Us About Success
“I
want more of this feeling - fire and wings.”
―
Jean Rhys, Good Morning, Midnight
“Grover!"
I yelled up. "You can drop me now, but don't worry. I have a - "
Grover
dropped me.
Honestly,
what sort of protector just drops you into a fire when you tell him it's okay
to drop you into a fire?”
―
Rick Riordan, The Burning Maze
“They're
so broke that they've actually cut essential services. In many places, they've
cut policemen, because, who the fuck needs them? Or firemen, son of a bitch,
it's much more fun watching something burn down.”
―
Lewis Black
“Too
bad we don't have marshmallows. This is an amazing fire." Howard emerged
through the smoke behind Edilio.”
―
Michael Grant, Lies
“Though
it’s reasons to burn may vary... you are always the fuel of my fire.”
―
Ranata Suzuki
“I
just wondered where you —” Ron broke off, shrugging. “Nothing. I’m going back
to bed.”
“Just
thought you’d come nosing around, did you?” Harry shouted. He knew that Ron had
no idea what he’d walked in on, knew he hadn’t done it on purpose, but he
didn’t care — at this moment he hated everything about Ron, right down to the
several inches of bare ankle showing beneath his pajama trousers.”
―
J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
“There
are people in the world, who are just wrong, and then there are the masses of
population that are right, or at the very least they lie in the veil of
between. I on the other hand, do not belong to any group. I don’t exist. It’s
not that I don’t have substance; I have a body like everyone else. I can feel
the fire when it burns against my skin, the rain when it caresses my face and
the breeze as it fingers my hair. I have all the senses that other people do. I
am just empty, inside.”
―
J.D. Stroube, Caged in Darkness
“I
freeze and burn, love is bitter and sweet, my sighs are tempests and my tears
are floods, I am in ecstasy and agony, I am possessed by memories of her and I
am in exile from myself.”
―
Francesco Petrarca, Canzoniere: Selected Poems
“The
dove descending breaks the air
With
flame of incandescent terror
Of which
the tongues declare
The
one discharge from sin and error.
The
only hope, or else despair
Lies
in the choice of pyre or pyre-
To
be redeemed from fire by fire.
Who
then devised the torment? Love.
Love
is the unfamiliar Name
Behind
the hands that wove
The
intolerable shirt of flame
Which
human power cannot remove.
We
only live, only suspire
Consumed
by either fire or fire.”
―
T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets
