Date: April, 1871

"A hot flash seems to burn across the brain."

— Bagehot, William (1826-1877)

Date: April, 1871

"In the same way, I think, experience proves that no one who has had real passionate conviction of a creed, the sort of emotion that burns hot upon the brain, can ever be indifferent to that creed again."

— Bagehot, William (1826-1877)

Date: 1872

"At Shakespear's happy birth / With fire ethereal Jove his soul endow'd, / Then bade him spurn the narrow bounds of earth, / And sordid wishes of the grov'ling crowd, / That chain the free-born mind."

— Laurence, French (1757-1809)

Date: 1892

"Dare you see a soul at the white heat?"

— Dickinson, Emily (1830-1886)

Date: 1914

"A dull anger began to gather again at the back of his mind and the dull fires of his lust began to glow angrily in his veins."

— Joyce, James (1882-1941)

Date: 1920

"The world is wide and yet it is like a home, for the fire that burns in the soul is of the same essential nature as the stars; the world and the self, the light and the fire, are sharply distinct, yet they never become permanent strangers to one another, for fire is the soul of all light and all...

— Lukács, Georg (1885-1971)

Date: 1922

"In the intense instant of imagination, when the mind, Shelley says, is a fading coal, that which I was is that which I am and that which in possibility I may come to be."

— Joyce, James (1882-1941)

Date: 1922

"I plucked my soul out of its secret place, / And held it to the mirror of my eye, / To see it like a star against the sky, / A twitching body quivering in space, / A spark of passion shining on my face."

— McKay, Claude (1889-1948)

Date: 1922

"Desire destroys, consumes my mortal fears, / Transforming me into a shape of flame. / I will come out, back to your world of tears, / A stronger soul within a finer frame."

— McKay, Claude (1889-1948)

Date: September, 1934

"This weight of knowledge dark on the brain is never / To be burnt out like fever, // But will slowly, with speech to tell the way and ease it, / Will sink into the blood, and warm, and slowly / Move in the veins, and murmur, and come at length / To the tongue's tip and the finger's tip most lowl...

— Miles, Josephine (1911-1985)