Drömboken: Journalanteckningar 1743–1744, Emanuel Swedenborg
»blå är mina önskningar, blå är himlens och havets önskningar
kanske någon ger mig fåglar att flyga med i solens röda
kölvatten där min fosforstjärna darrar
om jag väntar kanske någon förvandlar mina önskningar till
raketer och låter dem explodera bredvid ett moln långt borta
då skulle blåa stjärnor sakta regna ner i den röda kvällen«
”böljeslag”, Gunnar Ekelöf i Sent på jorden, 1932
»Den af Gud undervisade är idel öga;
Men en handfull menniskor, som intet äro, rusa åstad för att utställa och förevisa sin personlighet!
Dessa menniskor äro gnistorna från Allmaktens raket:
Man vet, hvad deras glitter går för och man vet, hur högt det går.«
Sehâbi Asterabâdi, Fjerde porten i Hussain Âzads antologi Persiska dikter, översatt av Eric Hermelin 1921
»The fireworks were by Gandalf: they were not only brought by him, but designed and made by him; and the special effects, set pieces, and flights of rockets were let off by him.
There were rockets like a flight of scintillating birds singing with sweet voices. There were green trees with trunks of dark smoke: their leaves opened like a whole spring unfolding in a moment, and their shining branches dropped glowing flowers down upon the astonished hobbits, disappearing with a sweet scent just before they touched their upturned faces. There were fountains of butterflies that flew glittering into the trees; there were pillars of coloured fires that rose and turned into eagles, or sailing ships, or a phalanx of flying swans; there was a red thunderstorm and a shower of yellow rain; there was a forest of silver spears that sprang suddenly into the air with a yell like an embattled army, and came down again into the Water with a hiss like a hundred hot snakes. And there was also one last surprise, in honour of Bilbo, and it startled the hobbits exceedingly, as Gandalf intended. The lights went out. A great smoke went up. It shaped itself like a mountain seen in the distance, and began to glow at the summit. It spouted green and scarlet flames. Out flew a red-golden dragon – not life-size, but terribly life-like: fire came from his jaws, his eyes glared down; there was a roar, and he whizzed three times over the heads of the crowd. They all ducked, and many fell flat on their faces. The dragon passed like an express train, turned a somersault, and burst over Bywater with a deafening explosion.«
The Fellowship of the Ring, J.R.R. Tolkien, 1954