You must burn with the desire to seek new things and investigate information — Sunday Adelaja
You must burn with the desire to seek new things and investigate information — Sunday Adelaja
You must burn with the desire to seek new things and investigate information — Sunday Adelaja
You must burn with the desire to seek new things and investigate information — Sunday Adelaja
You must burn with the desire to seek new things and investigate information — Sunday Adelaja
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You must burn with the desire to seek new things and investigate information

— Sunday Adelaja
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burn desire information investigate labor money new things prosperity riches seek significance success wealth

More “Burn” Quotes

I can’t—won’t do that to him,” Summer says sharply. “Or to myself. Besides, your feelings for me aren’t real. The Societ — Laura Kreitzer, Burning Falls
Seconds ebb and wane. She’s not afraid of her voice anymore, but she’s not entirely sure she trusts it. She’s seen the d — Laura Kreitzer, Burning Falls
When I see your scars, do I want to erase them? Absolutely. But not your physical scars. The real ones, beneath the surf — Laura Kreitzer, Burning Falls
Dammit, Gage. What the hell were you thinking?”“I wasn’t,” he shouts. “I was upset she wanted to stay, and I lost it.”Et — Laura Kreitzer, Burning Falls
If this is my final moment,” she says, “then I can die happy.”“Is that why you’re saying all this? Because you think we’ — Laura Kreitzer, Burning Falls
Time is a thief. A killer. Time is killing him. — Laura Kreitzer, Burning Falls
Her mum is leaning against the wall, arms crossed, when Summer exits. “Gage left from here a few minutes ago,” she says, — Laura Kreitzer, Burning Falls
Avery slides on his glasses and opens his eyes again. “Dammit!” he says again with more feeling. “Why does stuff like th — Laura Kreitzer, Burning Falls
A layer of fine powder coats his skin.“My lungs are turning to concrete,” Rob wheezes, hacking and spitting.“So are my e — Laura Kreitzer, Burning Falls
The night surrounds, breathes across her skin. They’re lost in the shadows of the moon. — Laura Kreitzer, Burning Falls
The seasonal urge is strong in poets. Milton wrote chiefly in winter. Keats looked for spring to wake him up (as it did — Helen Bevington, When Found, Make a Verse of
Why won’t you look at me?” she murmurs.He doesn’t speak, seemingly at a loss for words.“It’s my scars.” It comes out as — Laura Kreitzer, Burning Falls