"metaphors"タグの名言

Tomas did not realize at the time that metaphors are dangerous. Metaphors are not to be trifled with. A single metaphor can give birth to love.

An idealist is one who, on noticing that a rose smells better than a cabbage, concludes that it makes a better soup.

Metaphors have a way of holding the most truth in the least space.

Voll Blüten steht der Pfirsichbaum nicht jede wächst zur Frucht sie schimmern hell wie Rosenschaum durch Blau und Wolkenflucht. Wie Blüten geh'n Gedanken auf hundert an jedem Tag -- lass' blühen, lass' dem Ding den Lauf frag' nicht nach dem Ertrag! Es muss auch Spiel und Unschuld sein und Blütenüberfluss sonst wär' die Welt uns viel zu klein und Leben kein Genuss.

Up then, fair phoenix bride, frustrate the sun; Thyself from thine affection Takest warmth enough, and from thine eye All lesser birds will take their jollity. Up, up, fair bride, and call Thy stars from out their several boxes, take Thy rubies, pearls, and diamonds forth, and make Thyself a constellation of them all; And by their blazing signify That a great princess falls, but doth not die. Be thou a new star, that to us portends Ends of much wonder; and be thou those ends.

Tolkien, who created this marvellous vehicle, doesn't go anywhere in it. He just sits where he is. What I mean by that is that he always seems to be looking backwards, to a greater and more golden past; and what's more he doesn't allow girls or women any important part in the story at all. Life is bigger and more interesting than The Lord of the Rings thinks it is.

A poet is a verb that blossoms light in gardens of dawn, or sometimes midnight.

My mother writer poetry sometimes on bits of paper and sometimes in her journal I can neither match her depth nor her skill with metaphors the other night while we were talking on the phone about life and writing she read the lines of her poem that she had written she wrote: the night is a woman; she is wearing a dark black saree and the stars are the glitter on her saree's anchal!

When I quit smoking, they told me it takes three days to be able to breathe normally again, five days until I’m no longer physically addicted, seven days until there’s no more nicotine in my blood, six months to be entirely clean and fifteen years until the chance of a sudden death due to the consequences of smoking is minimized to 50%. I wish somebody could tell me how long it would take to be over you, too.

In a sense, the media is a moving Potemkin village of understanding, constantly adapting and reconstructing after-the-fact.

There are metaphors more real than the people who walk in the street. There are images tucked away in books that live more vividly than many men and women. There are phrases from literary works that have a positively human personality. There are passages from my own writing that chill me with fright, so distinctly do I feel them as people, so sharply outlined do they appear against the walls of my room, at night, in shadows... I've written sentences whose sound, read out loud or silently (impossible to hide their sound), can only be of something that acquired absolute exteriority and a full-fledged soul.