Quotes in the category metaphor.
I'm oxygen and he's dying to breathe.
I'm a little pencil in the hand of a writing God, who is sending a love letter to the world.
Love is a snowmobile racing across the tundra and then suddenly it flips over, pinning you underneath. At night, the ice weasels come.
Happiness is the china shop love is the bull.
People say that eyes are windows to the soul.
Life is a journey. Time is a river. The door is ajar
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.
Life is a moderately good play with a badly written third act.
Life' wrote a friend of mine, 'is a public performance on the violin, in which you must learn the instrument as you go along.
She's the kind of girl who climbed the ladder of success wrong by wrong.
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.
In short, philosophical theories are largely the product of the hidden hand of the cognitive unconscious.
What, then, is truth? A mobile army of metaphors, metonyms, and anthropomorphisms – in short, a sum of human relations, which have been enhanced, transposed, and embellished poetically and rhetorically, and which after long use seem firm, canonical, and obligatory to a people: truths are illusions about which one has forgotten that this is what they are; metaphors which are worn out and without sensuous power; coins which have lost their pictures and now matter only as metal, no longer as coins.
Know that diamonds and roses are as uncomfortable when they tumble from one's lips as toads and frogs: colder, too, and sharper, and they cut.
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.
Failure is the condiment that gives success its flavor.
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely.
The nail that sticks out farthest gets hammered the hardest.
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.
Hope is the crystal meth of emotions. It hooks you fast and kills you hard.
Once a flower is picked it immediately begins to die.
He danced with the sky instead, and the sky dropped him like a rotten plum.
Where death follows, there’s life. When darkness surrounds you in a world of chaos, search and you’ll eventually find the light.
I refuse to be put in a cage that gleams golden for many, but bronze for me. I would much rather be a dove in the sky, flying out into the open, into the sky, into the beyond.
I stopped writing in the obvious. I wrote how I saw it and if they don’t understand it, that’s fine.
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