Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ

“A sunset is the sun’s fiery kiss to the night.”
― Crystal Woods, Write like no one is reading 3

“And worse, far worse â€� he wasn't just kissing me. He was making me like it! And he was somehow, by some nefarious chauvinistic manly trick managing to make me kiss him back!”
― Robert Thier, Storm and Silence

“Then don't you dare tell me my dreams are insane! Because my dreams are what I live for!”
― Robert Thier, Storm and Silence

“She was the kind of elegance
That would never tarnish.
A mixture of lace and mesh,
Like a classic heirloom that begged to be worn.

She was sharp intellect and quick wit.
The type of woman that spoke her mind,
Even if it shook.
(Or even if no one was listening.)

She was beautiful.
But not someone you’d see in magazines,
Her hips were too wide, her hair a mess of wispy tendrils,
(Rather, she was actually very ordinary.)

My, was she stubborn! She’d drive you mad!
(Sometimes, you’d probably call her crazy.)

But mostly, her laughter was a joyful moments.
Like a warm towel fresh from the dryer,
Or finding a twenty-dollar bill in your winter coat.

And that was the true revelation.
That magic does exist,
It ran through her like a wild, fiery current.”
― M.J. Abraham

“To this day I still do not know why red shoes are sooo me. I think it might be that in a way the color demonstrates that though I am not much of a dresser I do have a fiery element in me and sometimes I even run with it.”
― gisela Hausmann

“Then I remembered how she was - fiery, ruthless, smart, and despite herself very caring, not a person who hurts anyone.”
― Mike Bond, Killing Maine

“A fiery spirit bursts from your soul.”
― A.D. Posey

“Starlight encased in flesh.
Fire burning in so much water.
Poetry living in hard spaces.

oh, how the body loves”
― Lady Grey, All Her Starry Fates

“Jacob and Whistler bumped into Taberah as she charged down the corridor, her hair a fiery halo, as if the hordes of Hell were behind her.”
― Dean F. Wilson, Lifemaker

“Within the eye, mysteries of the soul burn deeply beneath the fiery chasms of love and patiently wait for an awakening ...”
― Virginia Alison

“He worked at a feverish pace. He experimented with all manner of pies: tortoises, eel, chicken, frog, mushroom, artichoke, apricot, cherry, and his favorite of all, a luscious strawberry pie. He made omelets, stuffed eggs, and poached eggs with rosemary over toast. There were soups galore: fennel, tortellini, Hungarian milk, millet, kohlrabi, pea, and his famous Venetian turnip soup, which this time he made with apples instead. He molded jelly into the shapes of the cardinali crests, colored with wine, carrot, and saffron. He delighted most in the moments when he worked with his favorite knife, carving and slicing roasted cockerel, peacock, capons, turtledoves, ortolans, blackbirds, partridges, pheasants, and wood grouse. Every slice of the knife gave him greater confidence and belief in his power to make the world his.”
― Crystal King, The Chef's Secret

“Xavier looked at Shane's outfit of pants, pistol, and no shirt, and then glanced up at the porch. "You sleep outside?"
Shane turned and looked through the screen door. There was no sign of Agnes or the sheets that had been tumbled there. A woman who could wake up fast and then remove evidence slightly. His kind of girl.
"Yep. I like fresh air."
Xavier nodded, his exasperation evaporating into amusement. "Right. Miss Agnes up yet?"
"I wouldn't know."
"Right." Xavier gave a lazy grin and walked around Shane. "Quite a woman, that Miss Agnes."
"Yep," Shane said, following him up the walk.
"Bit sharp-tempered, though."
"I'd call her fiery."
Xavier turned his head toward Shane and nodded amiably. "Fiery. That's good."
They walked up the path, Rhett ambling with them. Xavier trooped up the steps to the porch and spared a glance at the air mattress and Shane's T-shirt, crumpled in a ball. "Restless night, son?"
"Slept like a baby."
"I bet you did," Xavier said, and went into the kitchen.”
― Jennifer Crusie, Agnes and the Hitman

“When you pray in tongues regularly, the leading of the Holy Spirit would be easy and effortless in your life.”
― Gabriel Ladokun

“It would have been kinder if the dragons had devoured him. That at least would have been quick. This... 'Fire is a hideous way to die. Small wonder the hells are made of flames'.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Dance with Dragons

“It is exactly as I have heard it described: large, white turning to orange trumpet flowers with deep rust-colored stamens, and a sweet scent.'
Elizabeth had found herself able to breathe more easily. She was certain that he had not found the Devil's Trumpet. She knew this plant of which Chegwidden spoke--- her father had described it as the 'fiery trumpet', a glorious tree that featured bushels of pendulous trumpet-shaped flowers, hanging downwards, 'as if musical instruments left behind by a fairy orchestra' he had said.”
― Kayte Nunn, The Botanist's Daughter