Sparks Of Phoenix Quotes

You may kill a fire. And everything you know falls to dust and ash. Yet the remarkable treasure in this seemingly hopeless pile, is hidden deep within. The burning embers incarnate the perpetual desire to go from spark to flame.

I am broken beyond repair. There is no going back to the person I was before. There is rebirth, rebuilding, reinventing, and soul stitching with gold that needs to happen.

Is he right in the head?” “Oh no, sir, I’m left brained.” Ciarán nodded seriously. “Killian’s the one who’s good at math.

You stayed a short while, but you made me want to write about love, not heartbreak, again. Thank you.

What you tell your mind to avoid is what your heart is truly seeking

I am so proud of the warrior that I have created from the ashes that were meant to bury me.

My heart crumbles into my aching soul because I know that I will never get the answer, but all I want to ask you is: Why did you ask me to love you when you had no intention of loving me?

Mistaken Memories are all that I have to anchor me, Yet they’re often what leaves me unhinged, Falling from that could I thought was so safe. You came to a place, where – besides me – You were uninvited. Leaving, you promised me I could always Count on you. I especially miss that. My kindred spirit, The one who promised to love me, Only to prove yourself a liar – Going from Prince Charming To the Big Bad Wolf, Truly thinking only of yourself Leaving me With empty promises, alone in the dark, Burnt from the initial spark Of what I mistook for love, Making my memories a false refuge. (full poem)

Even the girl he'd danced with had thought it was some marvelous trick. She had been enveloped in real, bright fire and she had tipped back her head and laughed, the tumble of her black hair becoming a crackling waterfall of light, the heels of her shoes striking sparks like glittering leaping dust all over the floor, her skirt trailing flame as if he were following a phoenix tail. Magnus had spun and swung with her, and she'd thought he was marvelous for a single moment of bright illusion. But, like love, fire didn't last.

You seek pain as if  it’s going to save you.  You dip into sadness  as if it’s going to bring you joy.

I feel that I am on the verge of disappearing, of surrendering into nothingness, of accepting that I am worth absolutely nothing and that I deserve what happened to me. And everything that it did to me. I have no power. Where do I get it from?

Like a phoenix bursting into flame and a rain of sparks before being reborn in its own ashes, it had taken burning up in my own misery for me to realize I didn't need other people to believe in me before I could do something. I had to believe in myself.

Another phoenix. Impossible. On the heels of that realization came another. Mimicking her posture, he crossed his arms and smiled back. "You shouldn't have revealed your presence to me, little firebird. Narrowed eyes shot sparks at him. "And why not?" she challenged. "Because now you're mine.

There is loneliness Shadows floating in dreams, Silences roaming in noise, Closeness sharing in separation, Sparks blooning in rain, Don’t know what it brings It fills you in every moment of mine Loneliness, loneliness , loneliness Deeper, Tenuous However it was, it was enough for us those days are pleasant In which both of us live. Don’t know what those moments that are repeating, It fills you in every moment of mine. Its loneliness, loneliness, loneliness What is it? What was it? That is inside both of them, it not lost yet despite of its loss, Is it pain? Or confusion? Or emptiness? The rest is somewhere deep inside. Don’t know what these moments have chosen for me, If fills you every moment of mine. Loneliness, loneliness, loneliness __ Kirti kangra

But Harry had eyes only for the man who stood in the largest portrait directly behind the headmaster’s chair. Tears were sliding down from behind the half-moon spectacles into the long silver beard, and the pride and the gratitude emanating from him filled Harry with the same balm as phoenix song. At last, Harry held up his hands, and the portraits fell respectfully silent, beaming and mopping their eyes and waiting eagerly for him to speak. He directed his words at Dumbledore, however, and chose them with enormous care. Exhausted and bleary-eyed though he was, he must make one last effort, seeking one last piece of advice. “The thing that was hidden in the Snitch,” he began, “I dropped it in the forest. I don’t know exactly where, but I’m not going to go looking for it again. Do you agree?” “My dear boy, I do,” said Dumbledore, while his fellow pictures looked confused and curious. “A wise and courageous decision, but no less than I would have expected of you. Does anyone else know where it fell?” “No one,” said Harry, and Dumbledore nodded his satisfaction. “I’m going to keep Ignotus’s present, though,” said Harry, and Dumbledore beamed. “But of course, Harry, it is yours forever, until you pass it on!” “And then there’s this.” Harry held up the Elder Wand, and Ron and Hermione looked at it with a reverence that, even in his befuddled and sleep-deprived state, Harry did not like to see. “I don’t want it,” said Harry. “What?” said Ron loudly. “Are you mental?” “I know it’s powerful,” said Harry wearily. “But I was happier with mine. So…” He rummaged in the pouch hung around his neck, and pulled out the two halves of holly still just connected by the finest thread of phoenix feather. Hermione had said that they could not be repaired, that the damage was too severe. All he knew was that if this did not work, nothing would. He laid the broken wand upon the headmaster’s desk, touched it with the very tip of the Elder Wand, and said, “Reparo.” As his wand resealed, red sparks flew out of its end. Harry knew that he had succeeded. He picked up the holly and phoenix wand and felt a sudden warmth in his fingers, as though wand and hand were rejoicing at their reunion. “I’m putting the Elder Wand,” he told Dumbledore, who was watching him with enormous affection and admiration, “back where it came from. It can stay there. If I die a natural death like Ignotus, its power will be broken, won’t it? The previous master will never have been defeated. That’ll be the end of it.” Dumbledore nodded. They smiled at each other. “Are you sure?” said Ron. There was the faintest trace of longing in his voice as he looked at the Elder Wand. “I think Harry’s right,” said Hermione quietly. “That wand’s more trouble than it’s worth,” said Harry. “And quite honestly,” he turned away from the painted portraits, thinking now only of the four-poster bed lying waiting for him in Gryffindor Tower, and wondering whether Kreacher might bring him a sandwich there, “I’ve had enough trouble for a lifetime.

Lily collided full-on into Lord Harte. With uncanny reflexes, he grasped her upper arms to keep them both from tumbling down the stairs. And something incredible happened. In one flashing fraction of a second, Lily felt the explosion of the white-hot awareness she had experienced the first time she had seen him, but this time, it was multiplied a hundredfold. Her arms where he gripped them felt inordinately hot from his touch, sparking a fierce reaction that spread throughout her limbs. The surface of her body where it pressed against him was branded with sensations she barely understood. It was as though she had been ignited in a conflagration of sudden life. Like a phoenix being birthed from flames.

Sometimes, wonderful, great fortune unexpectedly emerges phoenix-like from the ashes of disasters. Sometimes a crisis is required to spark needed transformation and growth.

If I’ve shifted anything, it’s only because you, Mama, and Nai Nai lent me your strength.” As Mulan out a long breath, a spark leapt from one of the incense sticks. As it floated downward, it seemed inexplicably to multiply, over and over until there were hundreds of sparks floating in the air of the temple. “Baba,” Mulan whispered. The sparks rearranged themselves, clustering, expanding, and re-forming, until they became a dragon that soared through the air. Next to it, a fiery bird flapped its wings. They cavorted together, chasing each other in dizzying circles, until, suddenly, they scattered again into ash. The glowing sparks floated slowly to the ground and winked out one by one.

Maybe we can help. Where are you from? I've never seen you around here before. And, how did you get that cut? Where are you staying?” He shook his head and giggled. “Are you the police? You ask a lot of questions Phoenix.” “No. I just ... never mind.” I wanted to know more about him. The way those sparkly green eyes gazed at me. The way his dimples sunk deep into his cheeks, as he smiled and said my name with his deep voice.

Kayıtsızlık ve ihmal, düpedüz sevmemekten daha fazla hasar yaratır çoğu kez...

Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we’ll find the perfect match here somewhere — I wonder, now — yes, why not — unusual combination — holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple.” Harry took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls. Hagrid whooped and clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, “Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well . . . how curious . . . how very curious . . .

She was not the one to start a fire, nor was she the one to play in it. She was the glorious, unrelenting light that could set fires through glass, that could spark an entire forest into everlasting flames with a single jolt of lightning. She was kindling, indeed, in her own magnificent and incomparable way.

As long as there is a spark in you, you, like a Phoenix, can rise from the ashes, get your life on track, and take it to newer and higher levels.

From the ashes, you rose, Phoenix. Rekindled from a spark. You are fire. You are hope. You are everything I need and everything I love. I’m irrevocably in love with you. Will you marry me here? Now. Be mine forever.

I've never wanted roses to resist wilting more than I do now. That's how I know that I want this love to last.

Don't mistake fire for sparks and flames...
 Sparks bring happiness, warmth, and comfort. Fire will corrupt, confuse, burn, and hurt.

I wonder, now- yes, why not- unusual combination- holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple." Harry took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on the walls. Hagrid whooped and clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well... how curious... how very curious..." He put Harry's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious... curious..." "Sorry," said Harry, "but what's curious?" Mr. Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale stare. "I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather- just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother- why, its brother gave you that scar." Harry swallowed. "Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember.... I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter.... After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things- terrible, yes, but great.

I find her eyes, seeing a woman who built herself from the last spark of her dying embers. A phoenix. One that makes no excuses for who she made herself into, no apologies if you get too close to her and find yourself scorched. They’d ripped her wings from her back, but she replaced them with ashes and eternal wings made of the hottest blue flame. And in order for her to fly, I’m going to cut the chains keeping her rooted to the ground.