Metaphorical Quotes Novels & Stories

Broken shards of glass lay scattered on the floor, mirroring the shattered pieces of her heart. Moonlight filtered through the window, casting a silvery glow upon the chaos. Aria's eyes fixated on the fragmented reflection, the cracks becoming symbolic of the pain and confusion consuming her. She closed her eyes, a quote she had once read resurfacing in her mind. "Don't tell me the moon is shining. Show me a glint of light on broken glass."

she mumbled and I glanced over to her meeting her gaze for a split second. "Do you have a favourite quote?" She asked softly "Whatever one loves most is beautiful" "I don't think I've gotten that far," "You haven't," I mumbled knowing she was just pages away. "What does your quote mean to you?" I asked referring to the one she had mentioned earlier. "Never let your emotions cloud your logic," she announced her meaning aligning with mine and I looked over to her to find her appreciating the passing trees a smile greeting my face. "And yours?" She asked motioning to the line I had offered as she turned to face me.

The little sweetheart of a lady tottered down the aisle, faced the congregation, and said, "I outlived the buggers." Memorable Quotes "Scattered showers my ass!" Noah. "I have no problem with you talking to yourself as long as it doesn't turn into an argument" Woody Allen. "If at first you don't succeed try, try again. Then quit. There's no point being a damn fool about it." W.C.Fields. "The one thing that all porn stars have in common is a dread of filming the scenes that don't involve sex" Fanny Lightfoot (Porn Movie Director) "For every human problem, there is a solution that is simple, neat, and wrong." H. L. Mencken

"Too much?" I didn't look up from my screen. "It depends. Is the villainy supposed to smell like manure? Because if so, it's perfect." He chuckled, scribbling a note. "Point taken. How's the opus going? Captured the existential angst of sedimentary rock yet?" "I'm trying to explain how being relentlessly pounded by the ocean is a metaphor for personal growth, yes," I said, deleting yet another overly florid sentence. "Sounds painful. And damp." He set his notebook aside. "You know, all this talk of tumbling... it's given me an idea."

Moreover, I might be young but I'm not weak. "Did you see the way he held her face at the ceremony? I could tell she almost felt like dying. I really saw her eyes watered." And do I have to tell them I've felt like dying a thousand times but did not die? Metaphorically speaking, I have been stabbed in the heart a thousand times but did not die.

I held my breath and continued reading. "He really left us, me and his child. He was really a devil incarnate, his the devil himself. The quote I read before, when I was still in earth did come true. And I never expected for it to happen to me. I should have not stared, I should have stopped him from staring at the abyss.” What?… It felt like theirs was a bomb dropped right through my face. A child? Staring at the abyss? Was it a metaphorical expression about the quote? Or was it in the literal sense?!

“It unnerves people.” “It does,” she admitted. “Some are beginning to feel exposed.” “That suggests they’re standing in places they didn’t expect to be illuminated.” A faint smile flickered across her expression. “You enjoy metaphor.” “I enjoy precision,” I said. “Metaphor just makes it easier to swallow.” She exhaled. “You understand that this stalemate cannot continue indefinitely.” “No,” I said. “But I understand who it benefits while it does.” “And who is that?” “Those hoping I’ll mistake frustration for failure,” I replied.

Max reminded me. Karl picked up his water and drank, probably to hide a smile. I set my coffee down in front of me with the precision of a woman restraining herself from stuffing two children with pancakes. “The wall was a metaphor,” I said. Max frowned. “What’s a metaphor?” “Something adults use to sound smart while avoiding facts.” Issa nodded immediately. “I like metaphors.” “Of course you do.” Max pointed at Karl’s bruise with his fork. “So can a metaphor hit?”

“Metaphor.” “Yes. Metaphor. You know ” I gestured vaguely, searching for a safe example. My gaze snagged on him again. Bad idea. Terrible idea. “When something stands in for something else. Like… like how your hoodie is armor. You wear it like it’ll keep people out. Like if the hood’s up and the sleeves are long enough, no one can get close enough to see anything you don’t want them to see.” The silence that followed was sudden and thick.

Tall people were the worst. “‘My nipples beaded and my core moistened,’” he continued. He wrinkled his nose. “Core? Why does this sound like she’s describing the earth’s core? Is this poor woman full of lava?” “It’s a metaphor.” I finally was able to snatch the book from his sneaky, princely fingers. “And yes, it’s ridiculously flowery. That’s why I like it.” “I’m surprised.” “That I read?” “No. That you read books like these.”