Time burns but leaves no ashes.
Truth burns up all karma and frees you from all births.
A flame burns brightest just before it goes out.
If a tiny spark of God's love already burns within you, do not expose it to the wind, for it may get blown out. . . . Stay quiet with God. Do not spend your time in useless chatter. . . . Do not give yourself to others so completely that you have nothing left for yourself.
Fire that's closest kept burns most of all.
No tears to damn you when jealousy burns.
I know George Burns was a very happy man.
A person does not. . . stand motionless and clear before our eyes with his merits, his defects, his plans, his intentions with regard to ourself exposed on his surface. . . but is a shadow which we can never succeed in penetrating. . . a shadow behind which we can alternately imagine, with equal justification, that there burns the flame of hatred and of love.
My reaction to Radiohead isn't as simple as jealousy. Jealousy just burns; Radiohead infuriate me. But if it were only that, I wouldn't go back and listen to those records again and again. Listening to Radiohead makes me fell like I'm a Salieri to their Mozart. Yorke's lyrics make me want to give up. I could never in my wildest dreams find something as beautiful as they find for a single song - let alone album after album.
It is a heretic that makes the fire, Not she which burns in it.
(Soft petals, yes, but not so barren quite, Mingled with these, smooth bean and wrinkled pea;) And go along with you ere you lose sight Of what you came for and become like me, Slave to a springtime passion for the earth. How love burns through the Putting in the Seed On through the watching for that early birth When, just as the soil tarnishes with weed, The sturdy seedling with arched body comes Shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs.
Nursing her wrath to keep it warm. --Robert Burns
In the attic, a warhead no doubt burns. Everything is combustible. Faith burns. Trust burns. Everything burns to nothing and even nothing burns. . . . And when there is nothing, there is nothing worth dying for and when there is nothing worth dying for, there is only nothing.
You don't have to be a wreck. You don't have to be sick. One's aim in life should be to die in good health. Just like a candle that burns out.
Wood feeds the fire which burns it.
writing is like being in love. You never get better at it or learn more about it. The day you think you do is the day you lose it. Robert Frost called his work a lover's quarrel with the world. It's ongoing. It has neither a beginning nor an end. You don't have to worry about learning things. The fire of one's art burns all the impurities from the vessel that contains it.
The light of genius is sometimes so resplendent as to make a man walk through life, amid glory and acclamation; but it burns very dimly and low when carried into "the valley of the shadow of death. " But faith is like the evening star, shining into our souls the more brightly, the deeper is the night of death in which they sink.
Spirit filled souls are ablaze for God. They love with a love that glows. They serve with a faith that kindles. They serve with a devotion that consumes. They hate sin with fierceness that burns. They rejoice with a joy that radiates. Love is perfected in the fire of God.
Anger is like fire. It burns all clean.
The lamp burns bright when wick and oil are clean.