Top 100 Simile Quotes
#1. How humid the heart, its messy rooms! We eat spicy food, sweat like wood and smolder like the coal mine that caught fire decades ago, yet still smokes more than my great-uncle who will not quit- or go out-
Kevin Young
#2. Girl: The kid buys a new tie and you curse him like he was Ramsay MacDonald.
Vladimir Mayakovsky
#4. Laughter erupted from her belly and shot out her mouth like pigeons through an open cage door, schoolchildren bursting into summer vacation, water from a tapped hydrant.
Dennis Vickers
#5. Nanny's words made Janie's kiss across the gatepost seem like a manure pile after a rain
Zora Neale Hurston
#6. The question of whether a computer can think is no more interesting than the question of whether a submarine can swim.
Edsger W. Dijkstra
#8. It was like hiking into a Hemingway story; everything was sepia-toned and bristling with subtext.
Leslie What
#9. Then she spotted in the corner, glowing wonderfully, a Wurlitzer jukebox. ' Holy shit!' It was like being on a commuter train through the Bronx and seeing among the piles of crushed cars a pasture with a lone white horse.
Garth Risk Hallberg
#10. Stress level: extreme. It's like she was a jar with the lid screwed on too tight, and inside the jar were pickles, angry pickles, and they were fermenting, and about to explode.
Fiona Wood
#11. I felt like one of Apollo's sacred cows- slow, dumb, and bright red.
Rick Riordan
#12. I'll buy metaphor, but simile's a cop-out used by scaredycats who won't commit to anything. Simile's for cowards.
Alan Garner
#13. Studied all year and wrote in my journal like a nun works a Rosary, dog with a new bone, bee in his hive's back room.
Dennis Vickers
#14. T.H. moved through the forest like the melody of a well-known song, in perfect harmony with his surroundings.
Charles De Lint
#15. Beauty soaks reality as water fills a rag.
Chet Raymo
#16. He was going to die soon, you knew when you saw those eyes. There was no sign of life in his flesh, just the barest traces of what had once been a life. His body was like a dilapidated old house from which all furniture and fixtures have been removed and which awaited now only its final demolition.
Haruki Murakami
#17. The pain wasn't tidal. That was the lesson of the dream which was really a memory. The pain only appeared to come and go. The pain was like the piling, sometimes covered and sometimes visible, but always there.
Stephen King
#18. There are three types of friends: those like food without which you can't live those like medicine which you need occasionally and those like an illness which you never want.
Solomon Ibn Gabirol
#19. The flesh of her butt jiggled like water-filled beach balls, oil drops dangling from a soupspoon, oversized Jell-O dessert cups.
Dennis Vickers
#20. Augustin stood there looking down at him and cursed him speaking slowly clearly bitterly and contemptuously and cursing as steadily as though he were dumping manure on a field lifting it with a dung fork out of a wagon.
Ernest Hemingway,
#21. Destroying rainforest for economic gain is like burning a Renaissance painting to cook a meal.
Edward O. Wilson
#22. How is it that from beauty I have derived a type of unloveliness? - from the covenant of peace a simile of sorrow? But as, in ethics, evil is a consequence of good, so, in fact, out of joy is sorrow born.
Edgar Allan Poe
#23. Rang in my ears like Easter morning churchbells in Rome, rumble from an unmuffled Harley, fireworks shells exploding over a Fourth-of-July parade.
Dennis Vickers
#24. I said I know my shot when I see it. Sometimes you don't even have to see it. Sometimes you feel it coming, screaming down the sky towards you like a meteor.
Tana French
#26. It was something quite special, that feeling: an oppressive, hideous constraint as if I were sitting with the small ghost of somebody I had just killed.
Vladimir Nabokov
#27. We're not moments, Megan, you and me. We're events. You say you might not be the same person you were a year ago? Well, who is? I'm sure not. We change, like swirling clouds around a rising sun.
Brandon Sanderson
#28. Eyeing her as a critic eyes a doubtful painting.
Thomas Hardy
#29. Roetown, of mixed economy, neither boom nor bust, just ordinary times - that is, hard - had a slightly run-down aspect, I suppose. But in a pleasing way, like a man you love who has buttoned his coat up wrong.
Yann Martel
#30. Smoked like it was fuel and he was going to get every last inch to the gallon.
Tana French
#32. The only way I can describe the extent of my anxiety is to say that I felt as if I were pregnant with a rock.
Katharine Graham
#33. I felt, by turns, numb, hot with a monstrous embarrassment, and sick as though I'd eaten splinters of glass and was slowly shredding inside.
Vanora Bennett
#34. His nostrils flared, he was breathing like a picadored bull.
Jerry Spinelli
#35. Telling someone about what a symbol means is like telling someone how music should make them feel.
Dan Brown
#36. Poetry comes out of you like a pot of oatmeal boiling over.
Dennis Vickers
#37. Mori smiled properly. The lines around his eyes were deeper than usual now. They made him look like an old photograph of a young man, often crushed, but ironed carefully so that only the ghosts of the marks remained.
Natasha Pulley
#38. Gleaming like a searchlight, Iowa moon, silver plate.
Dennis Vickers
#39. Peeing is like a good book in that it is very, very hard to stop once you start.
John Green
#40. Faded like morning fog in the rising sun, sports team logo on a cheap T-shirt, ninety-nine dollar paint job on a Chevy.
Dennis Vickers
#41. Right now I felt like a person learning that a surgeon had left a pair of scissors inside her during a operation.
Alexandra Kleeman
#42. Polish the young woman's ego like wax on a wood floor, Shinola on shoes, spit on an apple.
Dennis Vickers
#43. He was in his mid-thirties, tall and pale and thin, with long, sandy hair and rimless glasses, dressed in brown polyester pants, cheap brown shoes, and a light tan shirt. He looked like someone had put a wig on a giraffe and run it through the local Target.
John Connolly
#44. Above the front door the fanlight glowed blue, delicate as wing-bones.
Tana French
#45. My mind is a warehouse of carefully organized human emotions.
I lock away the things that do not serve me.
Tahereh Mafi
#48. High School is like a spork: it's a crappy spoon and a crappy fork, so in the end it's just plain useless.
John Mayer
#49. Our house was like sleeping beauties palace after the enchanted spell is cast
Karen Foxlee
#50. A house without books is like a room without windows.
Horace Mann
#51. It sounded like a piece of blackboard being dragged over the nails of a wall of severed fingers.
Neil Gaiman
#52. Hearing nuns' confessions is like being stoned to death with popcorn.
Fulton J. Sheen
#53. Normal, in our house, is like a blanket too short for a bed
sometimes it covers you just fine, and other times it leaves you cold and shaking; and worst of all, you never know which of the two it's going to be.
Jodi Picoult
#54. When you're looking around for metaphor or simile, I do think it's often helpful to keep inside the world of the book, to gather your comparisons from the stuff particular to that world - be they king salmon and aviation fuel, or pot roasts and spatulas.
Leigh Newman
#55. Deep ridges crossed his forehead like terraces in a Thai hillside, tucks in a leather cushion, troughs across a bloodhound's jowls.
Dennis Vickers
#56. Detonations crash in from nearby like walls she's a void at the center of.
Garth Risk Hallberg
#57. Reading it was like subletting a small apartment in someone else's head.
Garth Risk Hallberg
#58. The wind blowing through my ripped clothes was so cold that I felt like a Percysicle.
Rick Riordan
#59. Vanished like inhibitions at a bachelorette party.
Dennis Vickers
#60. There was this hot, yellowy stillness the air always got in the minutes before the last bell, as if it were stiffening itself to be shattered.
Garth Risk Hallberg
#61. The palimpsests of molecules need not be overwritten, for machines make once-ephemeral words persist: they collect in gutters; they pile up and require sweeping; they hang in air like morning fog.
Dexter Palmer
#62. 717! You are behaving like a demented bluebottle - stop that!
Laline Paull
#65. Human beings, you see, do absolutely two primary things. We see like and unlike. Like becomes, in literature, simile and metaphor. Unlike becomes uniqueness and difference, from which I believe, the novel is born.
Salman Rushdie
#66. I was confused by this sudden glare of attention; it was as if the characters in a favorite painting, absorbed in their own concerns, had looked up out of the canvas and spoken to me.
Donna Tartt
#67. When I read it now it's like I have broken into a reality that is not mine, and when I step out of it, as if I had removed my headphones and heard the city again, it is easy to close the door behind me.
Olivia Sudjic
#69. Laws are like cobwebs, which may catch small flies, but let wasps and hornets break through.
Jonathan Swift
#70. Some people are like Slinkies. They aren't really good for anything, but they still bring a smile to my face when I push them down a flight of stairs.
Patricia Briggs
#71. A funny thing happened post-diagnosis. They put him on drugs, things went up and down, but he lived. He lived. It was like a waiting room where they kept not calling your name.
Garth Risk Hallberg
#72. It is like reading two books, one with each eye, and understanding them both.
Dexter Palmer
#73. And then it hits me like a fast, open-palmed, stinging smack in the face.
Having a ghost boyfriend
WAS
weird
Lisa Schroeder
#74. It was a smooth silvery voice that matched her hair. It had a tiny tinkle in it, like bells in a doll's house. I thought that was silly as soon as I thought of it.
Raymond Chandler
#75. We were a bit like bacon and eggs, where y'know, the chicken is involved, but the pig is really committed? I totally gave myself to it just as we promised, "for better or worse", and you didn't see it like that.
Dawn French
#76. Even in dying, a Thennanin ship was reputed to be not worth putting out of its misery. In battle they were slow, unmaneuverable - and as hard to disable permanently as a cockroach.
David Brin
#77. Smiled like a homecoming queen, Pit Bull Terrier with a new collar, actress on the Letterman show.
Dennis Vickers
#78. Her hair burst from her head like a fireworks shell erupting, framing her face in spray of red-blond energy.
Dennis Vickers
#79. Southampton's barrage balloons floated gleaming in the moonlight like the ghosts of elephants and hippos.
Elizabeth Wein
#80. Maybe the siren was was a fire truck? Mercer couldn't see one anywhere, but like some bounding St. Bernard of the metaphysical, he couldn't quite let go of the belief that there must be an objective reality out there, beyond his own head.
Garth Risk Hallberg
#81. It came out sparkling like liquid sky.
Laurie Lee
#82. Wrinkles appeared and disappeared as he squinted his eyes and relaxed them, like someone peering into a strobe light, police car-top beacon, flashing neon beer sign.
Dennis Vickers
#84. Life is like the river, sometimes it sweeps you gently along and sometimes the rapids come out of nowhere.
Emma Smith
#85. He uses statistics as a drunken man uses lamp-posts ... for support rather than illumination.
Andrew Lang
#86. There I am then back in the saddle, in my numbed heart a prick of misgiving, like one dying of cancer obliged to consult his dentist.
Samuel Beckett
#87. Anxiety's like a rocking chair. It gives you something to do, but it doesn't get you very far.
Jodi Picoult
#88. A woman's dress should be like a barbed-wire fence: serving its purpose without obstructing the view.
Sophia Loren
#89. The email appeared sometime during the night, like alcohol-induced depression, dreams of old lovers, porn on TV.
Dennis Vickers
#90. A simile committing suicide is always a depressing spectacle.
Oscar Wilde
#91. His touch was like a bard's on his instrument, and it awakened a deep and mysterious music in my body.
Juliet Marillier
#93. The simile has to match the tone of its surroundings and has to be like a little joke. Writing a simile that isn't funny on some level is quite hard.
Ned Beauman
#94. Phyllida's hair was where her power resided. It was expensively set into a smooth dome, like a band shell for the presentation of that long-running act, her face.
Jeffrey Eugenides
#96. Disappeared like fog in a stiff morning breeze, teen revilers when a squad car creeps up the driveway, roaches when the kitchen light comes on.
Dennis Vickers
#97. I went out on a date with Simile. I don't know what I metaphor.
Tim Vine
#98. Her brown eyes flashed like headlamps on a police cruiser, cameras at a Superbowl kickoff, lightning over Frankenstein's
castle.
Dennis Vickers
#99. And than suddenly he was there, charging down the hallway like death in a cowboy duster.
Richelle Mead
#100. Lugh's decided to stick with bein mad at me. It's like traveling with a storm cloud. One of them that hangs low an heavy. The kind that builds an broods an keeps on buildin an brood in till everybody's got a sick headache.
Moira Young
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