Burnt Quotes

“In past wars only homes burnt, but this time
Don't be surprised if even loneliness ignites.
In past wars only bodys burnt, but this time
Don't be surprised if even shadows ignite.”
― Sahir Ludhianvi

“Every tree in the forest has a story to tell. Some of them were burnt but they endured the fire and got revived; some of them were cut, their barks injured, some people pick up their leaves to make medicines for their sicknesses, birds used their leaves to make their nests, etc. Upon all these, the tree is still tree!”
― Israelmore Ayivor, Shaping the dream

“When fall comes to town,
lovers, letters, and leaves
reunite on the sidewalks,
broken, burnt, and brown.”
― Akash Mandal

“Stop telling me not to burn bridges. Some bridges are meant to be burnt, some roads are never meant to be traveled again.”
― Steve Maraboli

“The day you start falling in love, with the wrecked homes and broken windows instead of running away from them. You will find a story that fills your soul, behind every burnt door.”
― Akshay Vasu

“There's no fall greater than one from a burnt bridge.”
― Carlos Wallace, Life Is Not Complicated-You Are: Turning Your Biggest Disappointments into Your Greatest Blessings

“Yimello,' said Bernard finally, breaking the silence.

'Gesundheit?' I asked.

'It's a name for one of the colors that's invisible to us. Yimello," said Bernard. "There could also be glowl and novaly and replitz."

'Yes.' I nodded, stunned the kid could actually string together so many words at once. 'And, uh, don't forget the beautiful grynn, the luminous dulloff, or the subtle winooze.'

Bernard's face lit up. He stood and started pacing the room, speaking quickly. 'Or salty, and insomnia, and carefree, and talkative, and lonely, and burnt, and punctual.'

'Some of my favorite colors,' I agreed, nodding. 'We could paint this room whisper. Or zigzag. Or maybe a nice shade of ignored and invisible.”
― Michelle Cuevas, Confessions of an Imaginary Friend

“In a matter of minutes, nothing was left of Spider but a large black soot mark on the ceiling.”
― Jennifer Valoppi, Certain Cure: Where Science Meets Religion

“At the back of my mind I wanted to be a journalist when I grew up since I didn’t seem to be getting any better at goalkeeping.”
― Ian Colquhoun

“Nothing that truly matters
Can ever evaporate,
Be excised,
Burnt out of your soul.”
― Scott Hastie

“Just because his own wings were burnt, it didn't mean he had to burn others’.”
― Dean F. Wilson, Lifemaker

“If I show up at my own fire, the ‘me’ who needs to be rescued and the ‘me’ who’s doing the rescuing are both likely to get burnt. And the oddity of it all is that if I choose to be my own first-responder, I can get burnt without a fire.”
― Craig D. Lounsbrough

“While Lavender wasn't keen on listening to a sermon (if this Whitman was, in fact, a clergy), she longed to study the book of Robert's face further, a book pulled, half burnt, from a fire. So much was written there, from the depths of suffering, Lavender didn't doubt, to ecstasy's heights, and the deep, innate sensibility required to worship---his word---at her floral cart, to see it for what it was, a little cathedral on wheels. She'd never met anyone who grasped flowers' import and beauty---profound, fleeting---to that extent; it was like meeting a kindred soul. Kindred, yet at the same time he seemed to her like someone who'd tumbled, in his best clothes, from some faraway constellation. She'd never met anyone like him.”
― Jeanette Lynes, The Apothecary's Garden

“While Hugh glad-hands with his constituents, I continue strolling around the fair, on a quest for clotted cream fudge. I find some at a small stand next to the Ferris wheel, and, with what little cash I have left, I buy three flavors: traditional, peanut butter, and chocolate. The traditional, I discover, is not traditional American fudge, which would be milk chocolate, perhaps studded with with toasted walnuts. Instead, this version is blond in color, with a milky, burnt-sugar flavor, like a square of caramel, only less sticky and with a soft, velvety texture.”
― Dana Bate, Too Many Cooks