Diamonds Go Through Fire Quotes

Woman lost (skin deep) like a damn fine thread in the fire Woman of the world caught up in your black machinations I was a woman who cried alone at night, who gave it all away when she saw the good heart of the man inside Woman caught standing up; her open parts are broken - Someone's armour broke right through, it was you, you For some reason I've been thinking about you, your light Today, you poured out all the tension, the ego underground Hibernating inside my heart. I was so close to it, to the flicker Of love in a lonely street and I turned my head and walked Away from the flame in your arms. As I put away the fun in A house of fight I came across you and a mechanism in My brain shifted chemically, walls caved in like the cadence In your words and I was lost in the darkness. Even now in Middle age I remember when desire was a popular drug And everyone was selling it but I don't live to explore to be Able to illuminate the proof of my existence, live to burn Vicariously though the diamond mouth of sleeping stars. From so much love, pictures of death arrived in black and White photographs and you're perfect, you always were - Illusions have no flaws; they're dangerous beings, smoke. Could I take the moon back and still live with my great Expectations of nostalgia, laughter, tears and suffering - But they are all a part of me not the people of the stars, Long dead videotape, the past has stained the symphony Of my soul (like the wind through the trees) throughout Me finding myself, my two left feet as a female poet The warning was there of the noise of eternity, signs That said, don't anger the sea, you have an ally in her. When men grow cold listen to their stories and bask in The glory of their genuine deaths, their winters, put Them away so you can read them like the newspaper. Once in a while you can go back to where you stood In youth with your afternoon tea, the sun of God in our Eyes - I am that kind of woman who lives in the past

There is nothing that the media could say to me that would justify the way they’ve acted. You can hound me. You can follow me, but in no way should you frighten those around me. To harm my wife and potentially harm my daughter—there is no excuse that could put any of you on the right side of morality. I met Rose when I was fifteen and she was fourteen, and through what she would call fate and I’d call circumstance of our hobbies, we’d cross paths dozens of times over the course of a decade. At seventeen, I attended the same national Model UN conference as Rose, and a delegate for Greenland locked us in a janitorial closet. He also stole our phones. He had to beat us dishonorably because he couldn’t beat us any other way. Rose said being locked in a confined space with me was the worst two hours of her life" They look bemused, brows furrowing. I can’t help but smile. “You’re confused because you don’t know whether she was exaggerating or whether she was being truthful. But the truth is that we are complex people with the ability to love to hate and to hate to love, and I wouldn’t trade her for any other person. So that day, stuck beside mops and dirtied towels, I could’ve picked the lock five minutes in and let her go. Instead, I purposefully spent two hours with a girl who wore passion like a dress made of diamonds and hair made of flames. Every day of my life, I am enamored. Every day of my life, I am bewitched. And every day of my life, I spend it with her.” My chest swells with more power, lifting me higher. “I’ve slept with many different kinds of people, and yes, the three that spoke to the press are among them. Rose is the only person I’ve ever loved, and through that love, we married and started a family. There is no other meaning behind this, and for you to conjure one is nothing less than a malicious attack against my marriage and my child. Anything else has no relevance. I can’t be what you need me to be. So you’ll have to accept this version or waste your time questioning something that has no answer. I know acceptance isn’t easy when you’re unsure of what you’re accepting, but all I can say is that you’re accepting me as me. I leave them with a quote from Sylvia Plath. “‘I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart.’” My lips pull higher, into a livelier smile. “‘I am, I am, I am.’” With this, I step away from the podium, and I exit to a cacophony of journalists shouting and asking me to clarify. Adapt to me. I’m satisfied, more than I even predicted. Some people will rewind this conference on their television, to listen closely and try to understand me. I don’t need their understanding, but my daughter will—and I hope the minds of her peers are wide open with vibrant hues of passion. I hope they all paint the world with color.

Phoenix Blood There are only two things I am sure of in this world: the first is, one day, this life will come to its final destination in death The second: people will try to obliterate you, and believe me, even the ones that once promised you forever will betray you, it never fails to happen when love turns dark. Do yourself a favour when this happens; reclaim yourself from them. I know you have been taught to slice out your own heart, hand it over again and again to selfish hands, because it is all you have known since you were a child. You are an open wound looking for someone to cure you. And when they see that, they will scratch at it, steal your voice, thinking your magic will go with it, hoping your core swallows itself up. This is where you remember the lava of the volcano you come from, your ancestors were made from fire and it runs like hum that sings through your own vein-rivers of blood. You are not an open wound, they just want you to think you are. They have done this to every woman before you, yet women were made to endure; they become the earth, they adapt like water, they turn into diamonds to survive as who they are. This is how we become magic, we walk through fire and become more holy. They try to break us, we do not accept defeat. They try to devastate us, we still discover how to be happy. They banish us to the depths of hell, we just absorb and master the heat.

Someone shakes my shoulder. I jerk awake, my eyes wide and searching, and I see Tobias kneeling over me. He wears a Dauntless traitor jacket, and one side of his head is coated with blood. The blood streams from a wound on his ear--the top of his hear is gone. I wince. “What happened?” I say. “Get up. We have to run.” “It’s too soon. It hasn’t been two weeks.” “I don’t have time to explain. Come on.” “Oh God. Tobias.” I sit up and wrap my arms around him, pressing my face into his neck. His arms tighten around me and squeeze. Warmth courses through me, and comfort. If he is here, that means I’m safe. My tears make his skin slippery. He stands and pulls me to my feet, which makes my wounded shoulder throb. “Reinforcements will be here soon. Come on.” I let him lead me out of the room. We make it down the first hallway without difficulty, but in the second hallway, we encounter two Dauntless guards, one a young man and one a middle-aged woman. Tobias fires twice in a matter of seconds, both hits, one in the head and one in the chest. The woman, who was hit in the chest, slumps against the wall but doesn’t die. We keep moving. One hallway, then another, all of them look the same. Tobias’s grip on my hand never falters. I know that if he can throw a knife so that it hits just the tip of my ear, he can fire accurately at the Dauntless soldiers who ambush us. We step over fallen bodies--the people Tobias killed in the way in, probably--and finally reach a fire exit. Tobias lets go of my hand to open the door, and the fire alarm screeches in my ears, but we keep running. I am gasping for air but I don’t care, not when I’m finally escaping, not when this nightmare is finally over. My vision starts to go black at the edges, so I grab Tobias’s arm and hold on tight, trusting him to lead me safely to the bottom of the stairs. I run out of steps to run down, and I open my eyes. Tobias is about to open the exit door, but I hold him back. “Got to…catch my breath…” He pauses, and I put my hands on my knees, leaning over. My shoulder still throbs. I frown, and look up at him. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” he says insistently. My stomach sinks. I stare into his eyes. They are dark blue, with a patch of light blue on his right iris. I take his chin in hand and pull his lips down to mine, kissing him slowly, sighing as I pull back. “We can’t get out of here,” I say. “Because this is a simulation.” He pulled me to my feet with my right hand. The real Tobias would have remembered the wound in my shoulder. “What?” He scowls at me. “Don’t you think I would know if I was under a simulation?” “You aren’t under a simulation. You are the simulation.” I look up and say in a loud voice, “You’ll have to do better than that, Jeanine.” All I have to do now is wake up, and I know how--I have done it before, in my fear landscape, when I broke a glass tank just by touching my palm to it, or when I made a gun appear in the grass to shoot descending birds. I take a knife from my pocket--a knife that wasn’t there a moment ago--and will my leg to be hard as diamond. I thrust the knife toward my thigh, and the blade bends.

THE WRATH TO COME. — MATTHEW 3:7 I t is pleasant to pass over a country after a storm has spent itself—to smell the freshness of the herbs after the rain has passed away, and to note the drops while they glisten like purest diamonds in the sunlight. That is the position of a Christian. He is going through a land where the storm has spent itself upon His Savior’s head, and if there be a few drops of sorrow falling, they distill from clouds of mercy, and Jesus cheers him by the assurance that they are not for his destruction. But how terrible it is to witness the approach of a tempest—to note the forewarnings of the storm; to mark the birds of heaven as they droop their wings; to see the cattle as they lay their heads low in terror; to discern the face of the sky as it grows black, and to find the sun obscured, and the heavens angry and frowning! How terrible to await the dread advance of a hurricane, to wait in terrible apprehension till the wind rushes forth in fury, tearing up trees from their roots, forcing rocks from their pedestals, and hurling down all the dwelling-places of man! And yet, sinner, this is your present position. No hot drops have fallen as yet, but a shower of fire is coming. No terrible winds howl around you, but God’s tempest is gathering its dread artillery. So far the water-floods are dammed up by mercy, but the floodgates will soon be opened: The thunderbolts of God are still in His storehouse, the tempest is coming, and how awful will that moment be when God, robed in vengeance, shall march forth in fury! Where, where, where, O sinner, will you hide your head, or where will you run to? May the hand of mercy lead you now to Christ! He is freely set before you in the Gospel: His pierced side is the place of shelter. You know your need of Him; believe in Him, cast yourself upon Him, and then the fury shall be past forever.

February 25 MORNING “The wrath to come.” — Matthew 3:7 IT is pleasant to pass over a country after a storm has spent itself; to smell the freshness of the herbs after the rain has passed away, and to note the drops while they glisten like purest diamonds in the sunlight. That is the position of a Christian. He is going through a land where the storm has spent itself upon His Saviour’s head, and if there be a few drops of sorrow falling, they distil from clouds of mercy, and Jesus cheers him by the assurance that they are not for his destruction. But how terrible it is to witness the approach of a tempest: to note the forewarnings of the storm; to mark the birds of heaven as they droop their wings; to see the cattle as they lay their heads low in terror; to discern the face of the sky as it groweth black, and look to the sun which shineth not, and the heavens which are angry and frowning! How terrible to await the dread advance of a hurricane — such as occurs, sometimes, in the tropics — to wait in terrible apprehension till the wind shall rush forth in fury, tearing up trees from their roots, forcing rocks from their pedestals, and hurling down all the dwelling-places of man! And yet, sinner, this is your present position. No hot drops have as yet fallen, but a shower of fire is coming. No terrible winds howl around you, but God’s tempest is gathering its dread artillery. As yet the water-floods are dammed up by mercy, but the flood-gates shall soon be opened: the thunderbolts of God are yet in His storehouse, but lo! the tempest hastens, and how awful shall that moment be when God, robed in vengeance, shall march forth in fury! Where, where, where, O sinner, wilt thou hide thy head, or whither wilt thou flee? O that the hand of mercy may now lead you to Christ! He is freely set before you in the gospel: His riven side is the rock of shelter. Thou knowest thy need of Him; believe in Him, cast thyself upon Him, and then the fury shall be overpast for ever.

Go, go, go!” Dave yelled, kicking his legs against the blue creeper’s side. The creeper queen ran forward towards Seth. Entity 303 and Entity 404 both turned to face Dave. “Hee hee, have you come to fight us?” Entity 303 giggled. The blue creeper queen fired a blast of blue flames at the two entities, but Entity 303 quickly created a bedrock wall to block it. “Make a wish!” Entity 303 screamed happily. “Make a wish, make a wish, make a wish!” “Harris, will you shut up with that ‘make a wish’ thing?” Entity 404 snapped. “It’s so annoying!” Then, suddenly, Entity 404’s eyes went wide. Dave saw that Entity 303 had thrust a diamond blade right through 404’s chest. “Why…?” Entity 404 gasped. “Because you’re no fun,” Entity 303 giggled. Entity 404 disappeared in a cloud of shadowy smoke. “He was always a dumb dumb,” said Entity 303. “I used to be his boss, you know. He was a dumb dumb then too!

Jack's eyes were huge, he was nervous and excited at the idea of fighting off so many blazes. “There were that many?”  Dad nodded, a frown on his face. “Yeah, I saw some other things in there, too. In the few seconds before they poofed me, anyway. Some skeletons that had dark gray bones. I hadn’t seen those before, but there weren’t nearly as many. Only a handful. I also saw some regular skeletons. But the sheer number of blazes was just...It was impossible to count.”  Mom huffed. “Well, that is not at all what I was hoping for. What are we going to do now?”  Dad opened his shulker box and pulled out his stronger set of iron enchanted armor, and a gold helmet, and put it all on. Then he took out two tower shields, equipping one in each hand. “Well first off, I should have gone in more prepared.”  Mom snapped her fingers. “Speaking of prepared, that reminds me.” She pulled out potions from her inventory, handing everyone a few. Then gave out stacks of golden apples and cooked pork, followed by healing potions. “This should help a lot for when we go in.”  “Wait,” Dad said. “You still want to go in after what I told you is behind that portal?”  Mom opened her shulker box, also getting dressed in her enchanted iron armor. “Yes, dear. We will not let some floating fire monsters stop us from reaching our goal.”  Kate grinned. “Go Mom! I have an idea too. STOMPY!” she called over to the huge ravager.  “What are you doing?” Jack asked. He had put on his enchanted iron armor, while handing Bruce some diamond armor and diamond sword, and some golden boots, just in case. Bruce ate them up, his entire body turning the blue of diamond, and his claws growing longer and sharper and shinier, piercing through his new, golden paws.  “I think we should have Stompy charge through and open a path for us. He’s perfect for the job,” Kate said as Stompy stomped up to them. She patted his neck lovingly.  “Aren’t you worried about him getting hurt?” Mom asked.

Diamond cannot be polished without friction. Gold cannot be purified without fire. Good people go through trials, but don’t suffer. With that experience their life becomes better, not bitter.

Cass pointed toward the entrance to the piazza. “Palazzo Alioni is just across the way.” She dropped Falco’s arm. “I can make it alone from here.” Falco cocked his head to the side. His eyes sparkled. “Are you afraid of being seen with me?” “No,” Cass said, a little too loudly. He was wearing down her resolve, and that just wouldn’t do. Besides, she needed to compose herself before attempting to sneak back in. “I just don’t want to wake anyone.” “Fair enough.” Falco pulled her closer to him. “But know that I’ll be watching you all the way to the door, so there’s no danger of you being abducted.” He scooped Cass suddenly into his arms and spun both of them around in a circle. “By anyone but me, that is.” Cass gave in to giggling. She couldn’t help it. Everything seemed less frightening now that she was home and Falco was with her. “Put me down,” she said. “You’re going to wake up the entire block.” Falco lowered her to the ground, but he kept his arms around her waist. “I may not be able to give you diamonds yet, Cassandra, but I do have something for you.” “Oh really?” Cass asked, suddenly breathless. He nodded, his face as serious as stone. “Close your eyes,” he commanded. “Falco,” Cass protested. “I really need to--” She knew she should pull away from his touch. But she couldn’t. “Close your eyes or I will wake the entire block.” He cleared his throat as if to scream. Cass closed her eyes. It would be fine. What harm could one little…? Her brain didn’t even get to finish the thought. Her body caught fire and her knees buckled as Falco pressed his lips to hers. He lifted her off the ground. She was weightless. She was floating. No, flying. Falco supported her back against the marble wall of the nearest palazzo. A soft sigh escaped his lips. The warm breath tickled Cass’s chin. The desire that had bloomed inside of her when she saw him became an entire garden of roses, wild and warm, twining through every part of her soul. She gave in, pulling him close, tangling her hands in his hair, tasting his skin and his lips and his tongue. She expected him to taste like ale, but he just tasted warm, like summer and sunrise. And happiness. Happiness Cass hadn’t felt in weeks. And in that moment she knew that she would go home with him, that she would give in. She would let him return her to his meager lodgings and undress her, and their bodies would flow together like rivers.