Embers Quotes

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

Black smoke, the flickering sister of fire.

I have come to believe that anger and grudges are burning embers in the heart.

Looking back, fire images have been constant in my poetry. As a boy, it was my job to light the fire each morning, and I remember the celebratory bonfires at the end of the war. It was from staring into fire that I began my first poetry.

I'd rather be a flash than a slowly burning ember.

All the business houses, banks, stores, etc., in the city were robbed and burned save one, and... most of the businessmen killed.... Mrs. Reed put out the fire six times to save her house, and they would fire it anew, but she by almost superhuman exertions saved it.... One lady threw her arms around her husband, and begged of them to spare his life. They rested the pistol on her arm as it was around his body, and shot him dead, and the fire from the pistol burnt the sleeve of her dress….The very air seems charged with blood and death.... The fires were still glowing in the cellars... Here and there among the embers could be seen the bones of those who had perished.... The sickening odor of burned flesh was oppressive. Pandemonium itself seems to have broken loose... and death runs riot over the country….

I stay a little longer, as one stays, to cover up the embers that still burn.

Even the smallest act of discipleship or the tiniest ember of belief can become a blazing bonfire of a consecrated life.

Sometimes an ember is all we need.

O joy! that in our embers Is something that doth live, That nature yet remembers What was so fugitive!

We're all embers from the same fire. Our ember winks out, we're ashes, we go back to the fire.

Marriage is like a barbecue. When you light a barbecue, it's very exciting to see the flames. That's lovely, but you have to wait until the flames have died down. Everything that you want from a barbecue happens on the hot embers. You can't cook on those flames.

Love. Of course, love. Flames for a year, ashes for thirty.

Sometimes the embers are better than the campfire.

The flames sawed in the wind and the embers paled and deepened and paled and deepened like the bloodbeat of some living thing eviscerate upon the ground before them and they watched the fire which does contain within it something of men themselves inasmuch as they are less without it and are divided from their origins and are exiles. For each fire is all fires, and the first fire and the last ever to be.

Fire is one of my temperaments. It is behind all my work... Fire is a chemical presence.