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Burning Quotes (page 41)

Faith Baldwin quote: "Autumn burned brightly, a running flame through the mountains,..."
Autumn burned brightly, a running flame through the mountains, a torch flung to the trees. Faith Baldwin
...as the wind howled on, and the sea leaped, and the ship groaned and dived, and yet steadfastedly shot her red hell further and further into the blackness of the sea and the night, and scornfully champed the white bone in her mouth, and viciously spat round her on all sides; 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. Herman Melville
I really knew nothing about her, blinded as I was by that burning loveliness which replaces everything else and justifies everything Vladimir Nabokov
Religion has actually convinced people that there is an invisible man living in the sky, and he has a special list of ten things he does not want you to do. And if you do any of these things he will send you to a place full of fire, and smoke, and burn and torture forever and ever 'till the end of time.... but he LOVES you. And he needs money. George Carlin
Nothing burns like the cold. But only for a while. Then it gets inside you and starts to fill you up, and after a while you don't have the strength to fight it. George R. R. Martin
I bind the Sun's throne with a burning zone, And the Moon's with a girdle of pearl; The volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel and swim, When the whirlwinds my banner unfurl. Percy Bysshe Shelley
Alice Hoffman quote: "He could burn her up alive; he could do it in a minute flat,..."
He could burn her up alive; he could do it in a minute flat, and that's not easy to forget. Alice Hoffman
George R. R. Martin quote: "Too much light can hurt the eyes, my friend, and fire burns."
Too much light can hurt the eyes, my friend, and fire burns. George R. R. Martin
I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. George R. R. Martin
All's ringing, roaring, grinding, breakers' crash - and silence all at once, release:it means he is tiptoeing over pine needles,so as not to startle the light sleep of space.And it means he is counting the grainsin the blasted ears; it meanshe has come again to the Daryal Gorge,accursed and black, from another funeral.And again Moscow, where the heart's fever burns.Far off the deadly sleighbell chimes,someone is lost two steps from homein waist-high snow. The worst of times... Anna Akhmatova
Remember thee! remember thee! Till Lethe quench life's burning stream Remorse and shame shall cling to thee, And haunt thee like a feverish dream! Remember thee! Aye, doubt it not. Thy husband too shall think of thee: By neither shalt thou be forgot, Thou false to him, thou fiend to me! George Byron
Youth, health, wealth and beauty are meant to be fuel, to be burned in pursuit of pleasure, and not fruit to be pickled in anticipation of some future famine. (Hang on a minute and I'll get my sequins out and give you a quick rendition of 'My Way') Julie Burchill
Maybe you'll call me someday. Hear the operator say the numbers no good. And that. She had a world of chances for you. She had a world of chances for you. She had a world of chances. Chances you were burning through Demi Lovato
Here. All of you. And you, doorkeeper. No one is to be let out of the house today. And anyone I catch talking about this young lady will be first beaten to death and then burned alive and after that be kept on bread and water for six weeks. There. C. S. Lewis
Much of your pain is self-chosen. It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self. Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquility: For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen, And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears. Khalil Gibran

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