A Quote by Thomas a Kempis

Love is watchful. Sleeping, it does not slumber. Wearied, it is not tired. Pressed, it is not straitened. Alarmed, it is not confused, but like a living flame, a burning torch, it forces its way upward and passes unharmed through every obstacle.
Though weary, it is not tired: though pressed it is not straightened; though alarmed, it is not confounded; but as a living flame it forces itself upwards and securely passes through all.
Faith is like lighting the torch that passes from one person to the next. You can't light the torch of another if yours isn't burning.
Love is a great thing...which alone maketh every burden light.. Love is watchful, and while sleeping, still keeps watch; though fatigued, it is not weary; though pressed, it is not forced. Love is sincere, gentle, strong, patient, faithful, prudent, long-suffering, and manly. Love is humble and upright, not weak, not fickle, nor intent on vain things; sober chaste, steadfast, quiet, and guarded in all the senses.
Love wakes much and sleeps little and, in sleeping, does not sleep. It faints is not weary; it is restricted in its liberty and is great freedom. It sees reasons to fear and does not fear, but, like an ember or a spark of fire, flames always upward, by the fervor of its love, toward God, and through the special help of grace is delivered from all perils and dangers
You still stand watch, O human star, burning without a flicker, perfect flame, bright and resourceful spirit. Each of your rays a great idea - O torch which passes from hand to hand, from age to age, world without end.
We each have a special something we can get only at a special time of our life. like a small flame. A careful, fortunate few cherish that flame, nurture it, hold it as a torch to light their way. But once that flame goes out, it’s gone forever.
The way upward from inertia to illumination passes through the sphere of action.
Yesterday the flame of the Olympic torch was carried through our great state on its way to Salt Lake City.
The burning embers within me burst into flame / My body becomes a fire-lit torch. / Ho someone! Send for the mid-wife.
Hearts are like tapers, which at beauteous eyes Kindle a flame of love that never dies; And beauty is a flame, where hearts, like moths, Offer themselves a burning sacrifice.
Each American generation passes the torch of truth, liberty and justice in unbroken chain all the way down to the present. That torch is now in our hands, and we will use it to light up the world.
Enter with the torch in the stadium. 80,000 people screaming. I was waiting downstairs for the start for 10 hours; I was so tired with the torch. I give the torch to the combined ski cross country that they win gold in Lillehammer in 1994.
For me, my heart, that erst did go Most like a tired child at a show, That sees through tears the mummers leap, Would now its wearied vision close, Would childlike on His love repose, Who giveth His Beloved, sleep.
My heart is burning with love. All I can see is this flame. My heart is burning with passion, like waves on an ocean. I'm at home, wherever I am. And in the room of lovers, I can see with closed eyes the beauty that dances. Behind the veils, intoxicated with love, I too dance the rhythm of this moving world.
I am made of God, through his Grace. Such that your misery touches me not, Nor does flame of that burning assail me.
Autumn burned brightly, a running flame through the mountains, a torch flung to the trees.
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