The fire was followed by a period of grieving and then by an incredible lightness, freedom, and mobility.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
There was a time when fire and story would fall asleep in unison. It was dream time.
Walking through this life really is walking through fire.
So, like a forgotten fire, a childhood can always flare up again within us.
Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods and day by day the dead leaves fall and melt.
There is in every woman's heart a spark of heavenly fire which lies dormant in the broad daylight of prosperity, but which kindles up and beams and blazes in the dark hour of adversity.
I'm probably a bit romantic about it, but I think we humans miss having contact with fire. We need it.
Through our great good fortune, in our youth our hearts were touched with fire. It was given to us to learn at the outset that life is a profound and passionate thing.
As we wander, grieving, in yet another dark moment, amid our pain we must struggle to remember the redemptive power of love and hope.
Death was like love, a romantic escape.
The closest fires were near enough for us to hear the crackling flames and the yells of firemen. Little fires grew into big ones even as we watched. Big ones died down under the firemen's valor only to break out again later.