Metaphorical Quotes นิยาย & เรื่องราว

] "Woah that felt good. I was totally handsome right!!!" [You looked like a monkey who wants to fly.] "Terrible metaphor, you mean pig right." [At least you understand yourself host.] "Hah haaah I so want to kill now."

she mused as the bad mood was taking control of each of her expressions "this has been completed your fault." "You speak as if you were under the command of some general and your his exalted soldier faithful to his orders you second him", making use of an obvious metaphor openly seeking to make me understand and continue saying "Lyall has simply caught our attention so you have to understand that it is nothing of the other world, now I ask you are you afraid of him?"

“You’re a match.” “Flattering,” I say. “It’s what you are,” he replies. “They built a tinderbox. You’re the spark.” “That metaphor makes me nervous,” I say. “Matches burn out.” “Not if they’re careful about where they aim,” he says. “Careful is not a word I associate with you,” I mutter. He smiles faintly. “You’re rubbing off on me,” he says. “Gross,” I say. Silence stretches. Then he clears his throat.

And that is my dream. Fuck! I'm such an idiot. Who would like to take and keep a shoe? I can't believe myself, that I was so dumbbbbbb that time! I did not expect that phrase will affect my life! my WHOLE FUCKING LIFE! I did not know it was the Fucking Figurative Language! Do you know? Metaphor? I was blind by innocence! Poor me... Poor this handsome me. Didn't know what lies behind that phrase long ago. So when did I?

***** [1] A mouthful of rice = just some metaphor or figurative speech [2] Black money = money earned illegally

“You have the fire, I told you that. But a fire without control is just a wildfire. It consumes everything and leaves only ash. You must become the architect of that fire.” The metaphor was so much more potent than a simple ‘show, don’t tell.’ It resonated deep within her. “How do I learn to do that? “By interrogating every assumption,” he said, his voice dropping to a more intimate timbre. “Nothing is self-evident. Don’t accept what is on the surface. Literature is alive, it tests you. It demands honesty, not convenience.” She scribbled frantically, trying to capture the essence of his words. He watched her, his gaze steady and unnervingly focused.

I held my breath and continue reading. “He really left us, me and his child. He was really a devil incarnation, 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 stop him from staring at the abyss.” What?… It felt like their was bomb drop right through my face. A child? Staring at the abyss? Was it metaphoric expression about the quote? Or was it in literal sense?!

He crossed his arms while narrowing his eyes at me. Time passed while playing, laughing and revealing a few things about each other which made me late for the office. Just thinking about it gives me a weird feeling. •••••••••••••• 'Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see'. ~Mark Twain. I used this quote in my poem. H.LOCKHART.

Eyes that were not quite eyes followed every motion of her breath. > “All right,” Mira said, trying to sound like a patient teacher instead of someone mentoring a reality-bending toddler. “Lesson one: emotional regulation.” > I don’t understand the term. > “Obviously. Okay—humans feel things, but we don’t let those things turn the weather purple.” > Purple is pretty. > “It’s catastrophic.” > So is love. Mira sighed. “Oh, wonderful, you’ve discovered poetry again.” From behind her, Adrian cleared his throat. “Maybe try… smaller metaphors?”

This was no feel-good fluff piece meant to reinforce some trite, overexploited message like 'love was real' or 'love always triumphs. Gray and I weren't actors. Our clothes weren't from a wardrobe department. Our words weren't printed on a script. Our home wasn't a set full of curated props. Our happy ending wasn't guaranteed. In our living room, I spoke ad libitum, straight from my heart. With her beside me on the couch, I told her how things had changed for me. Working within the confines and limitations of language, I turned to metaphor, to simile. As evinced by the mere existence of poetry itself—to concretize ambiguous ideas such as 'love' or 'happiness' using plain language always, alw