Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Chimney. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Chimney Quotes And Sayings by 90 Authors including Charlie N. Holmberg,Charles Dickens,Terry Pratchett,John James Audubon,Ruth Rendell for you to enjoy and share.
in the crook of her elbow as she went. Above her, over an apartment building and a tavern, she saw the expanse of a large square building with a flat roof and a single cylinder chimney. It was a tan-brick warehouse with dark broken windows. An abandoned bird's
The rain and hail pattered against the glass; the chimneys quaked and rocked; the crazy casement rattled with the wind, as though an impatient hand inside were striving to burst it open. But no hand was there, and it opened no more.
Ella turned to the fireplace where a blackened kettle hung over what Granny Weatherwax always called an optimist's fire: two logs and hope.
A Mocking Bird regularly resorts to the south angle of a chimney top and salutes us with sweetest notes from the rising of the moon until about midnight.
We came to the house, and it is an old house, full of great chimneys where wood is burnt on ancient dogs upon the hearth, and grim portraits (some of them with grim legends, too) lower distrustfully from the oaken panels of the walls.
'The Chimney Sweeper's Boy' began differently from any previous book I'd written. It actually derives from a story a friend - the novel's dedicatee, Patrick Maher - told me.
Flame is very near to smoke.
Nothing of the kind; they do all these things in their houses and sheds, with common charcoal fires, and a quantity of straw to stop up the crevices in the doors and windows.
This most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o-erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire.
Polished air-tight stove (new and deadly invention),
A burnt broom that has had enough, and refuses to burn further ...
You don't ask questions of an attic
An earth hard as iron lay locked beneath a sky whose mottled clouds spit snow like ashes sucked up a chimney and then dispersed with the smoke.
The south-wind strengthens to a gale, / Across the moon the clouds fly fast, / The house is smitten as with a flail, / The chimney shudders to the blast.
Their houses are all built in the shape of tents, with very high chimneys.
There was not one straight floor from the foundation to the roof; the ceilings were so fantastically clouded by smoke and dust, that old woman might have told fortunes in them better than in grouts of tea;
Smoke: her great-uncle says it is a suspension of particles, billions of drifting carbon molecules. Bits of living rooms, cafes, trees. People.
his way across the slanted roof over the
The crushed
teapot
in
the rubbish
of the
bulldozed
house
will sing
in your
ears
forever.
door, something neither English nor American. "What do you think!" she exclaimed, coming in one morning as I was busy writing. "She's got a little iron grate on legs, and there's charcoal burning in it." "Who? Where?" I asked, coming out
This is an old house. Among the oldest in the area, a white clapboard former farmhouse built in 1748. Fart on the porch and it rattles a floor board in the attic. -Dice (Swoon)
There was once a Charcoal-burner who lived and worked by himself. A Fuller, however, happened to come and settle in the same neighbourhood; and the Charcoal-burner, having made his acquaintance and finding he was
Sure, I watched the workmen come and lower large pieces of rotten sheetrock and lift new clean panels on a pulley
from that same window months ago, and I could have written then, but I must have sensed her coming, the smoker, so I waited.
Some critics are like chimney-sweepers; they put out the fire below, and frighten the swallows from their nests above; they scrape a long time in the chimney, cover themselves with soot, and bring nothing away but a bag of cinders, and then sing from the top of the house as if they had built it.
Just 'cause there's snow on the roof doesn't mean there's not a fire inside.
Some dry leaf blows into a campfire well-stoked and drawing well. What follows? That leaf catches at once, swiftly is consumed, a shadow withering briefly in the fierce light, and thereafter little remains, not cinder and ash so much as smudges of char.
Wings - -vast shimmering wings, their reach so great they swept the walls on either side of the alley, each feather like the wind-tugged lick of a candle flame.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
Greene wood makes a hott fire.
There is nothing more agreeable than having a place where one can throw on the floor as many cigar butts as one pleases without the subconscious fear of a maid who is waiting like a sentinel to place an ashtray where the ashes are going to fall.
A gypsy fire is on the hearth, Sign of the carnival of mirth; Through the dun fields and from the glade Flash merry folk in masquerade, For this is Hallowe'en!
The echoes of beauty you've seen transpire, Resound through dying coals of a campfire.
We've got stained glass windows in our house; it's those damned pigeons.
Why do I have the compulsion to caution you strenuously against going up those stairs, Windham? Perhaps you'll be swarmed by bats or set upon by little ghoulies with crossbows." "Oh, for God's sake, what could be hiding in an empty old carriage house?" ***
The last cobwebs
of fog in the
black firtrees are flakes
of white ash in the world's hearth.
Almost any house, caught unexpectedly or at an odd angle, can turn a deeply humorous look on a watching person; even a mischievous little chimney, or a dormer like a dimple, can catch up a beholder with a sense of fellowship; but a house arrogant and hating, never off guard, can only be evil.
Surely everyone is aware of the divine pleasures which attend a wintry fireside; candles at four o'clock, warm hearthrugs, tea, a fair tea-maker, shutters closed, curtains flowing in ample draperies to the floor, whilst the wind and rain are raging audibly without.
Let's see ... ah, yes, this is nice and cozy. It was a broom cupboard.
I have a fireplace in my kitchen that I light every night, no matter what.
In the draws the smoke coming off the ground like mist and the thin black trees burning on the slopes like heathen candles.
Smoke.. makes a kitchen also oftentimes in the inward parts of men, soiling and infecting them, with an unctuous and oily kinde of Soote as hath been found in some great Tobacco takers, that after their death were opened.
To the top of the tower, to the top of the wall! Now fart away, fart away, fart away all!" Santa cried, and then the reindeer took off running over the lawn. Suddenly, they all let out a giant reindeer fart, and Santa's sleigh flew up into the air!
Like odorless, colorless smoke leaking into the room through a small crack in the door.
cheese cauldron.
There is no fyre without some smoke.
I've almost got this fire lit," Duncan lied to change the subject.
"It's gas,Duncan," Willa told him. "You just turn a knob."
"Oh." Duncan did as she said, and a bright flame roared up through the fireplace.
Dispel the cold, bounteously replenishing the hearth with logs.
Once upon a time there was a piece of wood. It was not an expensive piece of wood. Far from it. Just a common block of firewood, one of those thick, solid logs that are put on the fire in winter to make cold rooms cozy and warm.
Heap high the farmer's wintry hoard! Heap high the golden corn! No richer gift has Autumn poured From out her lavish horn!
No use fanning up hot coals when you have to walk across them.
Most fires crackle and pop, but that's not really the fire talking, it's the wood. To hear the fire itself you need a huge blaze like this one, a furnace so powerful it roars with its own wind. I crouched as close as I dared and listened to its voice, a whispered howl of joy and rage.
They've built their nests in the chimneys of my heart: those swallows that you lost.
Whatever the losses in warmth and comfort, the gains in space proved irresistible. So the development of the fireplace became one of the great breakthroughs in domestic history: they allowed people to lay boards across the beams and create a whole new world upstairs.
A single three-bladed fan turned slowly in the centre of the ceiling, barely disturbing the scorching air which filled the small prefabricated hut like an oven...
It is that word 'hunny,' my darlings, that marks the first place in The House at Pooh Corner at which Tonstant Weader fwowed up.
For those, like me, who can't rely on being given a home smoker this Christmas, you can build your own approximation with just a roll of tin foil and a big wok or pan for which you have a lid.
A most malicious cough
The nest may be constructed, so far as the sticks go, by the male bird; but only the hen can line it with moss and down!
The impetuous wind can ignite the fire or put it out.
What, nephew, said the king, is the wind in that door?
my bonny love, our roof is safe above, our roof is finely tiled, God protect my little child.
Swept yer chimney!" D howled. "Aw shit, that is fuckin' rich!
The smoke from the fire passes through the building and the soot affixes itself to the walls. The smoke passes through the air and keeps going - liberation.
in the sweltering attic, and
Old houses were scaffolding once and workmen whistling.
The house might, in fact, have passed for the world's largest rosebush if here and there a pane of glass had not gleamed and a few dark shingles showed beneath the rose leaves. Two chimneys and a row of gables stuck timid snouts out along the roof line.
CASTLES IN THE AIR Laurie
Bob slid his chair back and moved the coal-oil lamp from the kitchen to the sitting room. He said, "Oftentimes things seem impossible up until they're attempted." Then he lidded the chimney glass with his palm and suffocated the light.
Frosty winter evenings, patterns of ice forming on the window panes outside, fresh coal piled on the red embers, and the fire spurting sulphurous flames of blue and green.
The roof of the front porch of the house is covered, for some reason, with moss, and also, on one side, with wisteria, which gives the house a sort of raffish Veronica Lake look, a disheveled charm.
stirs the fire below them with a steel pole; a
The wood echoed to the hoarse ringing of other saws; somewhere, very far away, a nightingale was trying out its voice, and at longer intervals a blackbird whistled as if blowing dust out of a flute. Even the engine steam rose into the sky warbling like milk boiling up on a nursery alchohol stove.
They had a smokehouse next to the pigpen - kind of morbid for the pigs. The
If attics could make wishes, this one would have nothing to wish for.
cats on hot bricks could take hints from me
Mr Lipwig, there's a lady in the hall to see you and we've thanked her for not smoking three times and she's still doing it!
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky. So up to the house-top the coursers they flew, with the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
What's in that pipe that he's smoking?
You may be trying to claim the woman, his eyes said, but make no mistake, she and the fucking fireplace are mine.
Hee that burnes his house warmes himselfe for once.
smoke is beautiful; weightless and shapeless, it almost appears as deceptively powerless as the person releasing it, yet, it comes from within and rises above us all. Crap,
That's crazy. Are Witches the one who help the big fat man get down the chimney too?"
"You know it, girl.
Buddy when he come back from up in the panhandle told me one time it quit blowin up there and all the chickens fell over.
You ain't no woodstove; you can't just squat in the middle of my house and stew.
Hollow, melting the final bits of ice from the bare trees. Steam rose from the soil like a phantom, carrying with it a whisper of autumn smoke that had been lying dormant in the frosty underground.
The wind which snuffs the candle fans the fire.
Envy's a coal comes hissing hot from Hell.
You just have to stoke that furnace throughout the day.
Flames curled out of all the windows next door. The rooftop beyond that was a lake of fire. Every building in sight was burning. The air was filled with crackling and popping sounds, with shrieks and screams coming from the street below.
This is the sphinx of the hearthstone, the little god of domesticity, whose presence turns a house into a home.
Houses are full of things that gather dust
Westminster Abbey, the Tower, a steeple, one church, and then another, presented themselves to our view; and we could now plainly distinguish the high round chimneys on the tops of the houses, which yet seemed to us to form an innumerable number of smaller spires, or steeples.
Thick coils of smoke hung in the air, perhaps to avoid touching the walls.
The same wind that extinguishes a light can set a brazier on fire.
A light breath fans the flame, a violent gust extinguishes it.
Water overflowed from the broken guttering, cascading from the missing down pipe over the flaky clapboard siding. A faded tarpaulin nailed over a window appeared to breathe as the wind sucked it in and puffed it out again.
Where may one breathe?" demands one Continental Macaroni, in a yellow waistcoat, " - in New-York, Taverns have rooms where Smoke is prohibited." "Tho' clearly," replies the itinerant Stove-Salesman Mr. Whitpot, drawing vigorously at his Pipe, "what's needed is a No-Idiots Area.
Not a living thing was to be seen and the cottages that sat huddled close to the ground remained fast shut; the smoke from the chimneys alone still gave a sign of life.
Spires whose "silent finger points to heaven."
Some People Like a House with A Fire Place, Others want a House they can set on Fire!