It is a heretic that makes the fire, not she which burns in it

Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning, One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish; Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning; One desperate grief cures with another's languish: Take thou some new infection to thy eye, And the rank poison of

Demetrius: Villain, what hast thou done?
Aaron: That which thou canst not undo.
Chiron: Thou hast undone our mother.
Aaron: Villain, I have done thy mother.

Fire that's closest kept burns most of all.

The fire i' th' flint Shows not till it be struck; our gentle flame Provokes itself and like the current flies Each bound it chafes.

A little fire is quickly trodden out; Which, being suffer'd, rivers cannot quench.