#burning

In one way, I suppose, I have been 'in denial' for some time, knowingly burning the candle at both ends and finding that it often gives a lovely light. ↗

— Christopher Hitchens

#both #burning #candle #denial #ends

I have this burning desire to get out there and do my best. It's as if I'm keeping it all in a little bottle, and it's all going to come out when I do the best I'm capable of doing. ↗

— Jackie Joyner-Kersee

#bottle #burning #burning desire #capable #come

It is only with burning anger that we can speak of this attack by counter-revolutionary reactionary elements against the capital of our country, against our people's democratic order and the power of the working class. ↗

— Janos Kadar

#anger #attack #burning #capital #class

For me, there is a stigma attached to playing beautiful parts. They are often empty characters whom the action happens around. I'm more drawn to characters with a complex internal life, who have a burning frustration underneath that keeps them going. ↗

— Ruth Wilson

#around #attached #beautiful #burning #characters

The problem is that I am in the wrong century to burn things. I am the wrong generation to let it go. ↗

— Edmund de Waal

#letting-go #art

There is a peculiar burning odor in the room, like explosives. the kitchen fills with smoke and the hot, sweet, ashy smell of scorched cookies. The war has begun. ↗

— Alison Lurie

#burning #cookies #explosives #fills #hot

I can tell you 100 percent Pastor Jones will not burn the Quran tomorrow. There will be no Quran burning. ↗

— Kilari Anand Paul

#burning #i #i can #jones #pastor

It was a pleasure to burn. It was a special pleasure to see things eaten, to see things blackened and changed. With the brass nozzle in his fists, with this great python spitting its venomous kerosene upon the world, the blood pounded in his head, and his hands were the hands of some amazing conductor playing all the symphonies of blazing and burning to bring down the tatters and charcoal ruins of history. With his symbolic helmet numbered 451 on his stolid head, and his eyes all orange flame with the thought of what came next, he flicked the igniter and the house jumped up in a gorging fire that burned the evening sky red and yellow and black. He strode in a swarm of fireflies. He wanted above all, like the old joke, to shove a marshmallow on a stick in the furnace, while the flapping pigeon-winged books died on the porch and lawn of the house. While the books went up in sparkling whirls and blew away on a wind turned dark with burning. ↗

— Ray Bradbury

#censorship #fire #change

At the end of her life she was aware of heat but not pain. She had time to consider his eyes, eyes of that blue which is the color of the sky at first light of the morning. She had time to think of him on the Drop, riding Rusher flat out with his black hair flying back from his temples and his neckerchief rippling; to see him laughing with an ease and freedom he would never find again in the long life which stretched out for him beyond hers, and it was his laughter she took with her as she went out, fleeing the light and heat in to the silkly, consoling dark, calling to him over and over as she went, calling bird and bear and hare and fish. ↗

— Stephen King

#dark-tower #death #fire #roland #stephen-king

You never forget your first and true love, Ayden Grey. Not officially, not ever. ↗

— Nadège Richards

#bridges #burning #heart #love #nadege