Resentment is the little fire that can transform and destroy the world by becoming a wildfire.

— Debasish Mridha

In the middle of the mayhem, you came and sang a song of melancholy. You promised a wildfire, but instead choked the light that was struggling hard for survival. Eventually when all the light went off. You left, complaining about the darkness.

— Akshay Vasu

Those footprints in the snow led me to this wildfire.

— Akshay Vasu

She will blaze through you like a gypsy wildfire. Igniting you soul and dancing in its flames. And when she is gone, the smell of her smoke will be the only thing left to soothe you.

— Nicole Lyons

The girl was alluring. Like wildfire, or a summer storm swept off the Gulf of Oro.

— Sarah J. Maas

Every time his lips meet mine, my whole body begins a slow tingle that starts from within in my chest, and spreads like a wildfire.

— Alex Rosa

I feel as though dispossessed from the semblances of some crystalline reality to which I’d grown accustomed, and to some degree, had engaged in as a participant, but to which I had, nevertheless, grown inexplicably irrelevant. But the elements of this phenomenon are now quickly dissolving from memory and being replaced by reverse-engineered Random Access actualizations of junk code/DNA consciousness, the retro-coded catalysts of rogue cellular activity. The steel meshing titters musically and in its song, I hear a forgotten tale of the Interstitial gaps that form pinpoint vortexes at which fibers (quanta, as it were) of Reason come to a standstill, like light on the edge of a Singularity. The gaps, along their ridges, seasonally infected by the incidental wildfires in the collective unconscious substrata.Heat flanks passageways down the Interstices. Wildfires cluster—spread down the base trunk Axon in a definitive roar: hitting branches, flaring out to Dendrites to give rise to this release of the very chemical seeds through which sentience is begotten. Float about the ether, gliding a gentle current, before skimming down, to a skip over the surface of a sea of deep black with glimmering waves. And then, come to a stop, still inanimate and naked before any trespass into the Field, with all its layers that serve to veil. Plunge downward into the trenches. Swim backwards, upstream, and down through these spiraling jets of bubbles. Plummet past the threshold to trace the living history of shadows back to their source virus. And acquire this sense that the viruses as a sample, all of the outlying populations withstanding: they have their own sense of self-importance, too. Their own religion. And they mine their hosts barren with the utilitarian wherewithal that can only be expected of beings with self-preservationist motives.

— Ashim Shanker

She lit wildfires inside my soul and fanned them with hurricanes.

— Morris R. Gates

Protector and destroyer were two sides of the same coin. Who knew which one would come out in a toss-up?

— Mina Khan

Every time his lips meet mine, my whole body begins a slow tingle that starts from within my chest, and spreads like a wildfire.

— Alex Rosa