The fire flew in every direction, and Oliver went over backwards.

The fires of the outer fringes of the camp flew toward her.

Stop fire in its tracks, fly above the sky, heal mortal wounds in a day.

She was gazing on me with eyes from which all fire, all meaning had flown, and a face colourless and apathetic.

The strobing fire of automatic weapons flew from the upper story windows.

At their retreating backs, fire flew in robes of red and black into the sky, until eventually the lake was lost from view.

The shutters came off the downstairs windows, fire and glass flying behind them.

"But fire flew out of your mouth."

Some of it struck in the roadway beyond them and fire flew from the stones.

Her left hand dropped and the fire flew down into the earth beside the wagon, flaring up with a tremendous flash.