Minshan Fire Fighting Quotes

Few men are killed by the bayonet, many are scared by it. Bayonets should be fixed when the fire fight starts ~ George S. Patton

The strongest steel is forged by the fires of hell. (Savitar) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

The U.S. army confirmed that it gave a lucrative fire fighting contract in Iraq to the firm once run by the Vice President Dick Cheney without any competitive bidding. When asked if this could be conceived as Cheney's friends profiting from the war, the spokesman said 'Yes.' ~ Conan O'Brien

There is nothing to become. The Truth shines here and now. Awareness IS. One does not become it. The Sun shines. One can simply enjoy it or be busy otherwise. That's it. The Sun shines irrespectively.
Awareness. Fire. The Song.
IT IS.
Stop fighting. Stop. ~ T.R. Cordon

He paused, then, I behind him, arms locked around the powerful ribs, fingers caressing him. To lie with him, to lie with him, burning forgetful in the delicious animal fire. Locked first upright, thighs ground together, shuddering, mouth to mouth, breast to breast, legs enmeshed, then lying full length, with the good heavy weight of body upon body, arching, undulating, blind, growing together, force fighting force: to kill? To drive into burning dark of oblivion? To lose identity? Not love, this, quite. But something else rather. A refined hedonism. Hedonism: because of the blind sucking mouthing fingering quest for physical gratification. Refined: because of the desire to stimulate another in return, not being quite only concerned for self alone, but mostly so. An easy end to arguments on the mouth: a warm meeting of mouths, tongues quivering, licking, tasting. An easy substitute for bad slashing with angry hating teeth and nails and voice: the curious musical tempo of hands lifting under breasts, caressing throat, shoulders, knees, thighs. And giving up to the corrosive black whirlpool of mutual necessary destruction. - Once there is the first kiss, then the cycle becomes inevitable. Training, conditioning, make a hunger burn in breasts and secrete fluid in vagina, driving blindly for destruction. What is it but destruction? Some mystic desire to beat to sensual annihilation - to snuff out one's identity on the identity of the other - a mingling and mangling of identities? ~ Sylvia Plath

Conthas burned to the ground. Apparently, this is a regular occurrence. Every few decades or so a fire goes unchecked and razes the entire city to ash. The locals think of it as a time of renewal. A chance to start over, to sweep away the old and build something new.

New taverns, for instance. New pubs, new scratch-dens; new gambling holes and fighting pits. New ale-houses, dice-houses, tap-houses, and whore-houses. From what I understand, Conthas is like some drug-addled, sex-crazed, booze-swilling phoenix that refuses to stay dead. ~ Nicholas Eames

Fighting is 90% mental. There are people who run from the fire and there are people that turn around and run to the fire. ~ Frank Shamrock

The physical technique is important," I say. "But it's mostly a mental game, which is lucky for you, because you know how to play those. You don't just practice the shooting, you also practice the focus. And then, when you're in a situation where you're fighting for your life, the focus will be so ingrained that it will happen naturally."
"I didn't know the Dauntless were so interested in training the brain," Caleb says. "Can I see you try it, Tris? I don't think I've ever really seen you shoot something without a bullet wound in your shoulder."
Tris smiles a little and faces the target. When I first saw her shoot during Dauntless training, she looked awkward, birdlike. But her thin, fragile form has become slim but muscular, and when she holds the gun, it looks easy. She squints one eye a little, shifts her weight, and fires. Her bullet strays from the target's center, but only by inches. Obviously impressed, Caleb raises his eyebrows.
"Don't look so surprised!" Tris says.
"Sorry," he says. "I just…you used to be so clumsy, remember? I don't know how I missed that you weren't like that anymore."
Tris shrugs, but when she looks away, her cheeks are flushed and she looks pleased. Christina shoots again, and this time hits the target closer to the middle.
I step back to let Caleb practice, and watch Tris fire again, watch the straight lines of her body as she lifts the gun, and how steady she is when it goes off. I touch her shoulder and lean in cl ~ Veronica Roth

They [American Indians] never did straight-up fights. It wasn't about, you know, getting killed in the line of fire. It was all ambush, ambush, ambush, and you ambush somebody, and then you take the scalps, and you - even though scalping wasn't created by the American Indians. It was created by the white man against Indians, and they just took it and claimed it. ~ Quentin Tarantino

Well. Um. The thing is…" I inhale, then continue with rapid-fire speed. "Imnotahockeyfan."

A wrinkle appears in his forehead. "What?"

I repeat myself, slowly this time, with actual pauses between each word. "I'm not a hockey fan."

Then I hold my breath and await his reaction.

He blinks. Blinks again. And again. His expression is a mixture of shock and horror. "You don't like hockey?"

I regretfully shake my head.

"Not even a little bit?"

Now I shrug. "I don't mind it as background noise - "

"Background noise?"

" - but I won't pay attention to it if it's on." I bite my lip. I'm already in this deep - might as well deliver the final blow. "I come from a football family."

"Football," he says dully.

"Yeah, my dad and I are huge Pats fans. And my grandfather was an offensive lineman for the Bears back in the day."

"Football." He grabs his water and takes a deep swig, as if he needs to rehydrate after that bombshell.

I smother a laugh. "I think it's awesome that you're so good at it, though. And congrats on the Frozen Four win."

Logan stares at me. "You couldn't have told me this before I asked you out? What are we even doing here, Grace? I can never marry you now - it would be blasphemous."

His twitching lips make it clear that he's joking, and the laughter I've been fighting spills over. "Hey, don't go canceling the we ~ Elle Kennedy

The central fire is desire, and all the powers of our being are given us to see, to fight for, and to win the object of our desire. Quench that fire and man turns to ashes. ~ Basil W. Maturin

Yes, Melanie had been there that day with a sword in her small hand, ready to do battle for her. And now, as Scarlett looked sadly back, she realized that Melanie had always been there beside her with a sword in her hand, unobtrusive as her own shadow, loving her, fighting for her with blind passionate loyalty, fighting Yankees, fire, hunger, poverty, public opinion and even her beloved blood kin. Scarlett felt her courage and self-confidence ooze from her as she realized that the sword which had flashed between her and the world was sheathed forever. ~ Margaret Mitchell

My brave husband came back from fighting the Turks and brought me a robe of silk and a necklace of human teeth. He sat up at night by his hearth telling tales of battle. Apparently the Turks are ten times more ferocious and fearless than the Scots. 'Perhaps we should invite them here to drive the Scots back,' I suggested, and he laughed, but he didn't kiss me. That's when I learned the truth about scars. A man with a battle scar is a veteran, a hero, given an honoured place at the fire. Small boys gaze up fascinated, dreaming of winning such badges of courage. Maids caress his thighs with their buttocks as they bend over to mull his ale. Women cluck and cosset, and if in time other men grow a little weary of that tale of honour, then they call for his cup to be filled again and again until he is fuddled and dozes quietly in the warmth of the embers.

But a scarred woman is not encouraged to tell her story. Boys jeer and mothers cross themselves. Pregnant women will not come close for fear that if they look upon such a sight, the infant in their belly will be marked. You've heard of the tales of Beauty and the Beast no doubt. How a fair maid falls in love with a monster and sees the beauty of his soul beneath the hideous visage. But you've never heard the tale of the handsome man falling for the monstrous woman and finding joy in her love, because it doesn't happen, not even in fairytales. The truth is that the scarred woman's husband buys her a good thick veil and ~ Karen Maitland

Pyotr was the arcane hero, complete with buff body that you secretly whacked off to as a boy. And suddenly he turned and stared straight at him, some carnal fire burning in his eyes now. Pyotr walked for him slow and cautious like he was fighting his own control just then. Cliff could only gape and his eyes followed Pyotr's hand as it reached out to clap his shoulder then moved him firmly for the car. ~ Talon P.S.

As usual, Junko thought about Jack London's 'To Build a Fire.' It was the story of a man traveling alone through the snowy Alaskan interior and his attempts to light a fire. He would freeze to death unless he could make it catch. The sun was going down. Junko hadn't read much fiction, but that one short story she had read again and again, ever since her teacher had assigned it as an essay topic during summer vacation of her first year in high school. The scene of the story would always come vividly to mind as she read. She could feel the man's fear and hope and despair as if they were her own; she could sense the very pounding of his heart as he hovered on the brink of death. Most important of all, though, was the fact that the man was fundamentally longing for death. She knew that for sure. She couldn't explain how she knew, but she knew it from the start. Death was really what he wanted. He knew that it was the right ending for him. And yet he had to go on fighting with all his might. He had to fight against an overwhelming adversary in order to survive. What most shook Junko was this deep-rooted contradiction.
The teacher ridiculed her view. 'Death is really what he wanted? That's a new one for me! And strange! Quite 'original,' I'd have to say.' He read her conclusion aloud before the class, and everybody laughed.
But Junko knew. All of them were wrong. Otherwise how could the ending of the story be so quiet and beautiful? ~ Haruki Murakami

It began as a flicker in her mind. Just a glint in a place still ruled by childish thoughts and fantasies. Yet that single spark ignited something, and the ensuing flame rushed forth with such speed and intensity that she was momentarily frightened it would swallow her whole. But there was no fighting it. It indeed devoured her, as well as everything else in its path. In the brief passage of an instant, the young girl's tiny form was filled to the brim with brilliant, searing, blinding rage. ~ Obie Williams

In a guerrilla war, the line between legitimate and illegitimate killing is blurred. The policies of free-fire zones, in which a soldier is permitted to shoot at any human target, armed or unarmed, further confuse the fighting man's moral senses. ~ Philip Caputo

I have been waiting twenty years for someone to say to me: "You have to fight fire with fire" so that I could reply, "That's funny-I always use water." ~ Howard Gossage

We must fight our way to victory on a sea of blood and a horizon of fire. ~ Gamal Abdel Nasser

We make bear sounds, talk bear language when we are in a fighting mood. "Harrnh"
and you are as good as gone. ~ John Fire Lame Deer

You must fight social media fire with social media water. ~ Jay Baer

I used to think I'd like to be a fireman - in fact, I still would - and the only drawback I could see was coming back to the firehouse, after a day of fighting fires, and still having to put in an eight-hour day writing. ~ David Mamet

My dad used to say 'Always fight fire with fire,' which is probably why he got thrown out of the the fire brigade. ~ Harry Hill

As hope kindles hope, millions more will find it. By our efforts, we have lit a fire as well - a fire in the minds of men. It warms those who feel its power, it burns those who fight its progress, and one day this untamed fire of freedom will reach the darkest corners of our world. ~ George W. Bush

Democrats are fighting fire with fire. Our principled stance on Medicare and Social Security is absolutely no different than the Republicans' stance on no revenue increases without cuts. ~ Judy Chu

Then why are we fighting?"

He dropped his hand and it curled into a fist. "Because you putting yourself in danger terrifies me, and yet you do it all the time."

I wished I could reach up and, with a wave of my hand, erase the fear I saw lurking in his eyes. So little scared him. It didn't seem right that I was the cause of his worst fears.

"Not all the time," I said with a little palm-open gesture. "Sometimes I'm as cautious as a baby rabbit."

"Really." He raised a brow. "Like when you set someone on fire?"

"Only people who choke me. And it was technically her hat. An ugly one. That hat needed burning."

His lips twitched. "It was a particularly grotesque hat, I'll give you that much. ~ Elly Blake

There is a piece of you that is still fighting this and I want to add a spark to that little ember and help you create a roaring fire of depression slaying badassery. You may feel numb and zombie-like, but you have not given up. We are still in this, friend. Let's get you back on track. In ~ Robert Duff

I held my breath, and refused to blink; he placed his hand on the bed to brace himself as he leaned towards me. Slowly, carefully, his lips
soft, warm, and perfect
found their way to mine. I want to say that it was magical, that I saw rainbows and fairy dust or something fantastic like that, but I couldn't. It was more. Much more.
It was as though the world has fallen down around us, and everything was frozen in ice. But I wasn't cold. I was blazing hot, the fire starting where our lips joined, where angel met mortal, and I could feel the flames flickering out towards the limbs that I was fighting with desperately to keep still, not wanting them to latch onto him, not wanting to seem out of control because at that moment, I would have given anything to be just that. ~ S.L. Naeole

Another danger is that - as is already happening to some extent - authors and editors run scared and go to absurd lengths to avoid giving offence. (An American editor rejected Polar, a picture book about a toy polar bear which is published in England by Andre Deutsch, on the ground that the text, written by Elaine Moss, states explicitly that the bear is white). A demand to avoid stereotypes can easily become in effect a demand for a different stereotype: for instance that girls should always be shown as strong, brave and resourceful, and that mothers should always have jobs and never, never wear an apron. And books written to an approved formula, or with deliberate didactic aim, do not often have the breath of life. Some members of women's groups in North America have published their own anti-sexist books, featuring such characters as fire-fighting girls or boys who learn to crochet. Good luck to them; but those I have seen are far below professional standard.

("Are Children's Books Racist and Sexist?" from Only Connect, 2nd ed., 1980) ~ John Rowe Townsend

He hoped her dreams were peaceful, for in a few moments she would awaken to the catastrophe that had befallen her. Could he persuade her to return home with him? Rumor had it that everything west of the river was untouched by the fire, which meant his townhouse had survived. He wanted to extend the protection of his home to Mollie. Never had he seen a woman as brave as she had been for the last thirty-six hours, and it confirmed what he had believed about her all along. She was worth fighting for, and he wanted her to be a part of his life. ~ Elizabeth Camden

Everything becomes agitated. Ideas quick-march into motion like battalions of a grand army to its legendary fighting ground, and the battle rages. Memories charge in, bright flags on high; the cavalry of metaphor deploys with a magnificent gallop; the artillery of logic rushes up with clattering wagons and cartridges; on imagination's orders, sharpshooters sight and fire; forms and shapes and characters rear up; the paper is spread with ink - for the nightly labor begins and ends with torrents of this black water, as a battle opens and concludes with black powder. ~ Honore De Balzac

The only great darkness I'm good at fighting is the one inside all of us. I'd like to light a fire inside everyone that can burn forever ~ Kieron Gillen

Come, come," said Mrs. Wiggins. "Stop your fighting, animals. If there are swallows in that chimney, it means that there hasn't been a fire built in the house in a long time. And that means that nobody lives there. Let's get inside." Bang, ~ Walter R. Brooks

So, whose man parts are you setting on fire?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow....
"No one. I was just telling Belle about how I need to lose my virginity."
Aaaaand, that did it. He froze, his arm dropping from Belle's shoulders as he took a not very subtle step toward the entryway. "I need to get the door."
She picked up her tulip-shaped glass, fighting a grin. "I didn't hear the doorbell. ~ Katie Reus