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Fires Quotes (page 34)

Jodi Picoult quote: "remember that every fire will burn itself out, even without..."
remember that every fire will burn itself out, even without your help. Jodi Picoult
Terry Prachett quote: "I wouldn't trust you with a bucket of water if my knickers..."
I wouldn't trust you with a bucket of water if my knickers were on fire! Terry Prachett
For poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry. Mary Oliver
Then come at once and pause for breath. In chasing wealth. Remembering death. And death's dark fires, mix, while you may, Method and madness, work and play. Folly is sweet, well-timed. Horace
I could understand the moon leaning across a bar on skid rowand asking for a drink, but I couldn't understand anything about myself, I was murdered, I was shit, I was a tentful of dogs, I was poppies mowed down by machine-gun fire. I was a hotshot wasp in a web. I was less and less and still reaching forsomething, and I thought of her corny remarka night or so ago: You have wounded eyes. Charles Bukowski
Charles Bukowski quote: "what matters most is how well you walk through the fire"
what matters most is how well you walk through the fire Charles Bukowski
Oh! But he was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, Scrooge! a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous, old sinner! Hard and sharp as flint, from which no steel had ever struck out generous fire; secret, and self-contained, and solitary as an oyster. Charles Dickens
The rising sun managed to peek around the vast column of smoke that forever rose from Ankh-Morpork, City of Cities, illustrating almost up to the edge of space that smoke means progress or, at least, people setting fire to things. Terry Prachett
Now you are walking in Paris all alone in the crowd. As herds of bellowing buses drive by. Love's anguish tightens your throat. As if you were never to be loved again. If you lived in the old days you would enter a monastery. You are ashamed when you discover yourself reciting a prayer. You make fun of yourself and like the fire of Hell your laughter crackles. The sparks of your laugh gild the depths of your life. It's a painting hanging in a dark museum. And sometimes you go and look at it... Guillaume Apollinaire
All things therefore are charged with love, are charged with God and if we knew how to touch them give off sparks and take fire, yield drops and flow, ring and tell of him. Gerard Manley Hopkins
If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can warm me, I know that is poetry. If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry. These are the only ways I know it. Is there any other way? Emily Dickinson
Rostov was not listening to the soldier. He looked at the snowflakes dancing above the fire and remembered the Russian winter with a warm, bright house, a fluffy fur coat, swift sleighs, a healthy body, and all the love and care of a family. “And why did I come here?” he wondered. Leo Tolstoy
Maybe you'll come to know that every man in every generation is refined. Does a craftsman, even in his old age, lose his hunger to make a perfect cup - thin, strong, translucent?" He held his cup up to the light. "All umpurities burned out and ready for a glorious flux, and for that - more fire. And then either the slag heap or, perhaps what no one in the world ever quite gives up, perfection." He drained his cup and he said loudly, "Cal, listen to me. Can you think that whatever made us -... John Steinbeck
I have lived at Cold MountainThese thirty long years. Yesterday I called on friends and family: More than half had gone to the Yellow Springs. Slowly consumed, like fire down a candle; Forever flowing, like a passing river. Now, morning, I face my lone shadow: Suddenly my eyes are bleared with tears. Gary Snyder
Poems are bullshit unless they are teeth or trees or lemons piled on a step. Or black ladies dying of men leaving nickel hearts beating them down. Fuck poems and they are useful, wd they shoot come at you, love what you are, breathe like wrestlers, or shudder strangely after pissing. We want live words of the hip world live flesh & coursing blood. Hearts Brains Souls splintering fire. We want poems like fists beating niggers out of Jocks or dagger poems in the slimy bellies of... Amiri Baraka

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