Metaphor Quotes

Failure is the condiment that gives success its flavor.

I'm oxygen and he's dying to breathe.

Shatter Me

Tahereh Mafi

Shatter Me
Beautiful    Couples    Kiss    Love    Metaphor    Need    Ya

I want to change my punctuation. I long for exclamation marks, but I'm drowning in ellipses.

People say that eyes are windows to the soul.

Doubt as sin. — Christianity has done its utmost to close the circle and declared even doubt to be sin. One is supposed to be cast into belief without reason, by a miracle, and from then on to swim in it as in the brightest and least ambiguous of elements: even a glance towards land, even the thought that one perhaps exists for something else as well as swimming, even the slightest impulse of our amphibious nature — is sin! And notice that all this means that the foundation of belief and all reflection on its origin is likewise excluded as sinful. What is wanted are blindness and intoxication and an eternal song over the waves in which reason has drowned.

Life is a journey. Time is a river. The door is ajar

Dead Beat

Jim Butcher

Dead Beat
Humor    Life    Metaphor    Zen

Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely.

Memories are bullets. Some whiz by and only spook you. Others tear you open and leave you in pieces.

Bullets    Memories    Metaphor    Pain

I always thought of it like you said, that all the strings inside him broke. But there are a thousand ways to look at it: maybe the strings break, or maybe our ships sink, or maybe we’re grass—our roots so interdependent that no one is dead as long as someone is alive. We don’t suffer from a shortage of metaphors, is what I mean. But you have to be careful which metaphor you choose, because it matters. If you choose the strings, then you’re imagining a world in which you can become irreparably broken. If you choose the grass, you’re saying that we are all infinitely interconnected, that we can use these root systems not only to understand one another but to become one another. The metaphors have implications. Do you know what I mean?

Paper Towns

John Green

Paper Towns

I said nothing for a time, just ran my fingertips along the edge of the human-shaped emptiness that had been left inside me.

The foundation of irreligious criticism is: Man makes religion, religion does not make man. Religion is, indeed, the self-consciousness and self-esteem of man who has either not yet won through to himself, or has already lost himself again. But man is no abstract being squatting outside the world. Man is the world of man – state, society. This state and this society produce religion, which is an inverted consciousness of the world, because they are an inverted world...
Religious suffering is, at one and the same time, the expression of real suffering and a protest against real suffering. Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people.
The abolition of religion as the illusory happiness of the people is the demand for their real happiness. To call on them to give up their illusions about their condition is to call on them to give up a condition that requires illusions. The criticism of religion is, therefore, in embryo, the criticism of that vale of tears of which religion is the halo.
Criticism has plucked the imaginary flowers on the chain not in order that man shall continue to bear that chain without fantasy or consolation, but so that he shall throw off the chain and pluck the living flower. The criticism of religion disillusions man, so that he will think, act, and fashion his reality like a man who has discarded his illusions and regained his senses, so that he will move around himself as his own true Sun. Religion is only the illusory Sun which revolves around man as long as he does not revolve around himself.

Love is a snowmobile racing across the tundra and then suddenly it flips over, pinning you underneath. At night, the ice weasels come.

Humor    Love    Metaphor    Simpsons

The sense of tragedy - according to Aristotle - comes, ironically enough, not from the protagonist's weak points but from his good qualities. Do you know what I'm getting at? People are drawn deeper into tragedy not by their defects but by their virtues.
[But] we accept irony through a device called metaphor. And through that we grow and become deeper human beings.

Irony    Life    Metaphor    Wisdom

Half the people in the world think that the metaphors of their religious traditions, for example, are facts. And the other half contends that they are not facts at all. As a result we have people who consider themselves believers because they accept metaphors as facts, and we have others who classify themselves as atheists because they think religious metaphors are lies.

She's the kind of girl who climbed the ladder of success wrong by wrong.

Humor    Innuendo    Insult    Metaphor

I am not plain, or average or - God forbid - vanilla. I am peanut butter rocky road with multicolored sprinkles, hot fudge and a cherry on top.

I always think of each night as a song. Or each moment as a song. But now I'm seeing we don't live in a single song. We move from song to song, from lyric to lyric, from chord to chord. There is no ending here. It's an infinite playlist.

Bhie    Chord    Love    Lyric    Metaphor    Moment    Song

The nail that sticks out farthest gets hammered the hardest.


Patrick Jones


If Music is a Place -- then Jazz is the City, Folk is the Wilderness, Rock is the Road, Classical is a Temple.

City    Classical    Classical music    Folk    Folk music    Genre    Jazz    Jazz music    Metaphor    Motif    Music    Musical    Place    Road    Rock    Rock and roll    Rock music    Temple    Wild    Wilderness

If television's a babysitter, the Internet is a drunk librarian who won't shut up.

Cat and Girl Volume I

Dorothy Gambrell

Cat and Girl Volume I

Life is a moderately good play with a badly written third act.

The psychotic drowns in the same waters in which the mystic swims with delight.

Life's a climb. But the view is great.

I know the expression love bloomed is metaphorical, but in my heart in this moment, there is one badass flower, captured in time-lapse photography, going from bud to wild radiant blossom in ten seconds flat.

I wonder which is preferable, to walk around all your life swollen up with your own secrets until you burst from the pressure of them, or to have them sucked out of you, every paragraph, every sentence, every word of them, so at the end you're depleted of all that was once as precious to you as hoarded gold, as close to you as your skin - everything that was of the deepest importance to you, everything that made you cringe and wish to conceal, everything that belonged to you alone - and must spend the rest of your days like an empty sack flapping in the wind, an empty sack branded with a bright fluorescent label so that everyone will know what sort of secrets used to be inside you?

Der blinde Mörder

Margaret Atwood

Der blinde Mörder

The creative act is a letting down of the net of human imagination into the ocean of chaos on which we are suspended, and the attempt to bring out of it ideas.
It is the night sea journey, the lone fisherman on a tropical sea with his nets, and you let these nets down - sometimes, something tears through them that leaves them in shreds and you just row for shore, and put your head under your bed and pray.
At other times what slips through are the minutiae, the minnows of this ichthyological metaphor of idea chasing.
But, sometimes, you can actually bring home something that is food, food for the human community that we can sustain ourselves on and go forward.

Chaos    Community    Creative    Fisherman    Human    Imagination    Journey    Metaphor    Net    Ocean

the road is life

Happiness is the china shop; love is the bull.

Man is born broken. He lives by mending. The grace of God is glue

Life' wrote a friend of mine, 'is a public performance on the violin, in which you must learn the instrument as you go along.

A Room with a View

E.M. Forster

A Room with a View
1908    Life    Metaphor    Violin

Illness is the night side of life, a more onerous citizenship. Everyone who is born holds dual citizenship, in the kingdom of the well and in the kingdom of the sick. Although we all prefer to use the good passport, sooner or later each of us is obliged, at least for a spell, to identify ourselves as citizens of that other place.

And now, my poor old woman, why are you crying so bitterly? It is autumn. The leaves are falling from the trees like burning tears- the wind howls. Why must you mimic them?

Titus Groan

Mervyn Peake

Titus Groan
Autumn    Copy    Cry    Crying    Despair    Fall    Howl    Metaphor    Mimic    Poetic    Rain    Shakespearean    Simile    Wind    Wit

It's a commonly expressed and rather nice, romantic notion that we are all "sisters" and "brothers."
Let's be real. Fact is, we might be better served to accept that we are all
Siblings fight, pull each other's hair, steal stuff, and accuse each other indiscriminately.
But siblings also know the undeniable fact that they are the same blood, share the same origins, and are family.
Even when they hate each other.
And that tends to put all things in perspective.

Brother    Brotherhood    Brothers    Family    Fraternity    Metaphor    Siblings    Sister    Sisters

Hope is the crystal meth of emotions. It hooks you fast and kills you hard.

Drugs    Emotions    Hope    Metaphor

Computers are like Old Testament gods; lots of rules and no mercy.

The Power of Myth

Joseph Campbell

The Power of Myth

If London is a watercolor, New York is an oil painting.

Using a metaphor in front of a man as unimaginative as Ridcully was like a
red flag to a bu... was like putting something very annoying in front of
someone who was annoyed by it.

Lords and Ladies

Terry Pratchett

Lords and Ladies

Time is a river...and books are boats. Many volumes start down that stream, only to be wrecked and lost beyond recall in its sands. Only a few, a very few, endure the testings of time and live to bless the ages following.

The Lost Symbol

Joseph Fort Newton

The Lost Symbol

They say the eyes are the window to the soul.

Reality is a cliché from which we escape by metaphor.

The common man prays, 'I want a cookie right now!' And God responds, 'If you'd listen to what I say, tomorrow it will bring you 100 cookies.

Bigger picture    Cookie    Cute    Faithfulness    Figurative    Foreknowledge    Funny    God    Hard work    Humility    Humor    Impatience    Knowledge    Literal    Metaphor    Misunderstanding    Obedience    Omniscience    Patience    Prayer    Praying    Prudence    Time    Timing    Understanding    Waiting    Work

But metaphors help eliminate what separates you and me.

When people hurt you over and over, think of them like sandpaper. They may scratch and hurt you a bit, but in the end you end up polished and they end up useless.

Hope    Hurt    Inspirational    Life    Metaphor    Motivational    Philosophy    Revenge    Wisdom

All that is transitory is but a metaphor.

You're a marshmallow. Soft and sweet and when you get heated up you go all gooey and delicious."-

Traumatic events, by definition, overwhelm our ability to cope. When the mind becomes flooded with emotion, a circuit breaker is thrown that allows us to survive the experience fairly intact, that is, without becoming psychotic or frying out one of the brain centers. The cost of this blown circuit is emotion frozen within the body. In other words, we often unconsciously stop feeling our trauma partway into it, like a movie that is still going after the sound has been turned off. We cannot heal until we move fully through that trauma, including all the feelings of the event.

Anyone else feel like that? Like your life's a big act. Like you're trying to be a man when you're just a scared kid, trying to keep under control when you really want to scream, cry, maybe hit someone. Ever feel like you're breathing underwater, and you have to stop because you're gulping in too much fluid?

Breathing Underwater

Alex Flinn Beastly

Breathing Underwater

I found myself in a sea in which the waves of joy and sorrow were clashing against each other.

Love is a piano dropped from a four story window and you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.
-Two Little Girls (Little Plastic Castle)

Your mind is a cupboard and you stock the shelves.


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