Elemental Ember Quotes

Every exercise of power incorporates a faint, almost imperceptible, element of contempt for those over whom the power is exercised. One can only dominate another human soul if one knows, understands, and with the utmost tact despises the person one is subjugating.

To vanquish the beast, one must not be afraid to awaken it.

The embers in your soul, they're still lit. You must protect them, with every last bit. For your elements are beyond all their doubt. Reignite your fire, their judgement will burn out.

He briefly wondered if he was falling ill; he shouldn’t have swum in the ocean at night, when a chill could set in. But as soon as he remembered the moment when they had broken the surface and Adaira had laughed, Jack knew he would choose to do it again, and again, even if time permitted him to redo the past. That he would follow her into the sea. And perhaps that was true only because Adaira held his allegiance and respect as his laird, but perhaps it was due to something else. Something that stirred his soul like breath on embers, rousing old fire. Gods, he thought with a sharp intake. He needed to smother this feeling now, before it unfurled and grew wings. Or perhaps he should let it fly.

So a life builds up in layers, piecemeal, a kind of haphazard engineering that has elements of skill and cunning - the previous layers mostly hidden, as are the smaller mounds within, the clumps of different-coloured earth, the burnt offerings, the nodules of pain and the delight. The hard graft of the chopped-off antlers, picking and stabbing and scraping. The embers of old fires, old flames, in mute fragments of charcoal.

It is the nuclear "burning" of hydrogen which supplies the energy of the sun; the hydrogen is converted into helium. Furthermore, ultimately, the manufacture of various chemical elements proceeds in the centers of the stars, from hydrogen. The stuff of which we are made, was "cooked" once, in a star, and spit out. How do we know? Because there is a clue. The proportion of the different isotopes— how much C12 , how much C13 , etc., is something which is never changed by chemical reactions, because the chemical reactions are so much the same for the two. The proportions are purely the result of nuclear reactions. By looking at the proportions of the isotopes in the cold, dead ember which we are, we can discover what the furnace was like in which the stuff of which we are made was formed. That furnace was like the stars, and so it is very likely that our elements were "made" in the stars and spit out in the explosions which we call novae and super- novae. Astronomy is so close to physics that we shall study many astronomical things as we go along.

But as soon as he remembered the moment when they had broken the surface and Adaira had laughed, Jack knew he would choose to do it again, and again, even if time permitted him to redo the past. That he would follow her into the sea. And perhaps that was true only because Adaira held his allegiance and respect as his laird, but perhaps it was due to something else. Something that stirred his soul like breath on embers, rousing old fire.

Do you remember when you told me you were powerless? Look at you now, Veyka. You are no longer the Queen of Secrets. You are Queen of the Void. Queen of this realm, and every realm, should you desire it.” I watched her as I spoke, the words pouring out of me easier with every syllable. A crash sounded from the direction of the rift, and I was aware of another wave of elementals crashing through it, heard Elora’s voice in the background. But every sense was tuned to Veyka—the scent of her exhaustion, the tangible crackle of her magic against my skin. She glowed brighter with every heartbeat as I went on: “The entire world is at your fingertips. Worlds that I cannot even imagine, beyond what the rest of us can see and hear and dream. Immortal? No, not next to you. You are not the elemental queen, or the void queen. You are an Ancestors-damned goddess. And after this, everyone in Annwyn will know it.

imperceptible, element of contempt for those over whom the power is exercised. One can only dominate another human soul if one knows, understands, and with the utmost tact despises the person one is subjugating.

The matter might be summed up as follows: creativity calls for a disorderly and passionate element that is capable of breathing life into the imaginative process, yet it also demands a measure of discipline, for without discipline the disorderly and passionate element—however powerfully enlivening it might be—might not amount to anything concrete. Nietzsche in fact maintains that what we ordinarily conceive of as creative “freedom” is always in the final analysis a function of “unfreedom,” for it is only when the artist subjects herself to a strict regimen of rules and regulations that inspiration in any tangible form can take place. From such restraint, Nietzsche proposes, “there always emerges and has always emerged in the long run something for the sake of which it is worthwhile to live on earth, for example virtue, art, music, dance, reason, spirituality—something transfiguring, refined, mad and divine.” According to this account, it is the artist’s self-discipline that establishes the confines within which the asocial and disordered elements of the creative process can be transformed into something spectacularly appealing. At the same time, too ruthless a repression of these elements would result in insipid and purely derivative art. This is to contend that discipline alone is not enough to engender sublime art, for even though it often manages to give rise to highly cultured and graceful forms of beauty, it lacks the raw energy and vitality to generate something truly inspired. Likewise, the asocial aspects of our subjectivity alone are not enough to produce transcendent art, for though they possess raw energy and vitality, they lack the element of restraint that is indispensable to transform this energy and vitality into a stirring work of art. In this sense, it is the delicate balance between the tamed and the untamed aspects of existence that ignites the embers of awe-inducing creativity. Art that does not welcome the asocial, like rationality that does not contain a dose of irrationality, will shrivel up and die of its own indolence.

Please, Master Wujun. Such wiggling is unbecoming a young man of your stature.

What about the dead?" Wujun asked, pausing to look back. Kentai raised his arm, blocking the street behind them from view. His hand was heavy on Wujun's shoulder and for a second, he thought the swordsman was shaking. "Don't look back," he replied in a grave, stricken tone. "Never look back.

Circumstances didn't favor us; that doesn't mean you made any mistakes.

Nagisa slammed her fist into the wall beside Kiatsu's head, causing the girl to jump. "There are no caveats, Kiatsu!" she snapped, holding up her gnarled hand between them as unspoken proof that her wisdom was not flawed. "There are no exceptions! At this very moment, war is marching toward us! Do you think because you are a woman they will hesitate to defile and kill you? I will not always be here to protect you, girl! Harden yourself or die!

Fall is a textured season, that can hug your soul like a sweater...and put s.more spice in your night. It has a way of warming your eye life with soul soothing and savory fire dances that flickery with ambery, embered, ever-changing elemental light.

I have the best idea!” she exclaimed. Ember closed his eyes. “Please don’t say that you want to go on a—” “I want to go on a quest,” Aurora announced.

Puppies!” she exclaimed. “Oh, they’re so cute and fluffy!” Ember slowly turned around to look at Nautilus, growling. “Is this some kind of sick joke?” Nautilus was trembling, his eyes covered by his webbed paws. Ember wasn’t finished. “From the way you were screeching, I thought Queen Tempest was pulling your fur off,” he snapped. “What in the world is wrong with you?” Nautilus was too panicked to speak. He could hardly breathe. Aurora lowered herself to match the pups’ adorable height. “Hi, little ones,” she began. “Are your parents somewhere around here? Can you take us to them, please?” They remained silent. Then, in unison, they smiled. They had biggest, sharpest fangs she had ever seen. The pups lunged! Aurora and Ember were dragged to the ground. Aurora shrieked as one gnawed her leg. She hurriedly shook him away. There was no time to celebrate. Another pup poked her in the eye, laughing sadistically. “Gah!” Ember exclaimed, as he was buried under puppy fluff. Aurora quickly suffered the same fate. The light of the sun was snatched from her. This is an adorable nightmare! she thought. What is wrong with these little monsters? Ow! Did someone just bite my tail? The grown wolves were soon pinned by the village pups. Their faces were pressed into the ground. Aurora spat out a mouthful of sand. Yuck! “Can we eat them?” asked the pup squashing Ember’s face.

We’ll figure it out pretty fast,” Nautilus responded queasily. “We’ll hear wolves fighting inside, along with the roar of a bloodthirsty crowd.” “We’ll also hear Nautilus squeal like a pup,” Ember added. “And see him bolt the other way.” Aurora stifled her laugh. Nautilus stuck out his tongue at Ember. “Whatever,” he responded. “Not everyone is as brave, or foolish, as you two.

Paws frantically shook Aurora. “Come on, come on!” came the worried voice of Ember. “Wake up, Aurora. Seriously. Wake up!” “Shaking her isn’t going to make a difference,” Nautilus said. “Leave her be.” Ember growled at him. However, he seemed to back off, because the shaking ceased. “Aurora will wake up on her own time,” Nautilus promised in a gentle tone. “I know it.” Aurora felt like she had been dragged through the entire desert backward. Her everything hurt. A pounding headache thrummed through her skull. Her mouth was filled was sand. Gross! With a groan, Aurora slowly opened her eyes. She spat it out. “That was officially the worst,” she said feebly.

It’s all about bringing together the many individual elements. That’s why I left my bed early in the morning for so many years, and why I worked long hours, with so many years spent away from home.

Original Fire I watch my daughter build a fire not from a match or cigarette lighter but from the original elements, two sticks, a length of sinew, friction. She has formed a cup of juniper shreds, and when she spins out a black ember and breathes it to life she transfers the radiant pebble into the nest and breathes again. Sparks fly from her lips. A dove of flame bursts from between her hands. She speaks to the spark until the words catch and burn and I think, here is my daughter who is innocent of all things yet from whose lips the terrible and merciful flame flies out, the truth, the fire.