Love is a burnin' thing And it makes a fiery ring Bound by wild desire I fell into a ring of fire <p> I fell into a burnin' ring of fire I went down, down, down And the flames went higher And it burns, burns, burns The ring of fire, the ring of fire

At the moment when her eyes closed, when all feeling vanished in her, she thought that she felt a touch of fire imprinted on her lips, a kiss more burning than the red-hot iron of the executioner.

The feeling I groped assuming love was nothing but a fire.

The fire blazing in her dark and injured heart seemed to glow around her like a flame.

That was the way life was: it lay so quiet, so still that you put your fingers out to touch it, to stroke it. Then it leapt up and struck you full in the face so that you spun about and spun about, gasping. The flames leapt up all around, rising by inches every minute, rising in rings.”

He was now in that state of fire that she loved. She wanted to be burnt.

Shams, my body is a candle touched with fire.

behind the mask of ice that people wear, there beats a heart of fire.

When someone is going through a difficult time, the difficulties spread out in concentric circles and touch even peripheral situations and relationships. When darkness falls in one person, fire is lit in the other, and thereby all sense of normality vanishes, unless someone struggles to stay within it, without necessarily even realizing what one is doing. For on the one hand, everything is as usual, and it must remain as usual, on the other everything is an emergency. It is the friction between the two levels that starts the fire.

A real flame of love is a subtle thing. It burns as a will–o'–the–wisp, dancing onward to fairylands of delight. It roars as a furnace. Too often jealousy is the quality upon which it feeds.

We are in the reign of fire, everything is being burned.

You are like a fire: you warm me.

A real flame of love is a subtle thing. It burns as a will-o'-the-wisp, dancing onward to fairy lands of delight. It roars as a furnace. Too often jealousy is the quality upon which it feeds.

To love is to burn, to be on fire.