What is it about a fire that draws, sucks, lures and beckons us toward the fatal flames? The desire to feed the source coupled with the sensibility to douse it out once it’s served its purpose or delivered its destruction.
I have no poignant answers.
Just a torch and a camera.
“You kindled me, heap of ashes that I am, into fire. He had wondered once why love was always phrased in terms of burning. The conflagration in his own veins, now, gave the answer.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess
“They say a good love is one that sits you down, gives you a drink of water, and pats you on top of the head. But I say a good love is one that casts you into the wind, sets you ablaze, makes you burn through the skies and ignite the night like a phoenix; the kind that cuts you loose like a wildfire and you can’t stop running simply because you keep on burning everything that you touch! I say that’s a good love; one that burns and flies, and you run with it!”
― C. JoyBell C.