A room without books is like a body without a soul.
A day without sunshine is like, you know, night.
Love is like the wind, you can't see it but you can feel it.
Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.
He's like a drug for you, Bella.
Fate is like a strange, unpopular restaurant filled with odd little waiters who bring you things you never asked for and don't always like.
Life, he realize, was much like a song. In the beginning there is mystery, in the end there is confirmation, but it's in the middle where all the emotion resides to make the whole thing worthwhile.
A house without books is like a room without windows.
Deciding whether or not to trust a person is like deciding whether or not to climb a tree because you might get a wonderful view from the highest branch or you might simply get covered in sap and for this reason many people choose to spend their time alone and indoors where it is harder to get a splinter.
Life is like an onion; you peel it off one layer at a time, and sometimes you weep.
I felt like one of Apollo's sacred cows- slow, dumb, and bright red.
Anxiety's like a rocking chair. It gives you something to do, but it doesn't get you very far.
Sex is like air; it's not important unless you aren't getting any.
Hearing nuns' confessions is like being stoned to death with popcorn.
Yes, boys are a little like shoes. Why? Well...They can be useful. But mainly...They are nice to look at. Getting the right one can be a lovely accessory to an outfit. There are times when you couldn't do without them. And there are times when you'd rather do without them. Get the wrong ones and they can hurt. There are many types and often the ones that look the nicest are completely unpractical.
Opinions are like onions. They spell similarly, usually have many layers, and tend to make people cry.
Father has a strengthening character like the sun and mother has a soothing temper like the moon.
If she were here I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off her. I would hold her so close she'd beg me to let her breathe. I'd kiss her so hard she'd plead for mercy. I'd unfasten her clothing and lie with her on that hard bed, and what was between us would be as far above the ordinary congress between man and woman as the stars are above their pale reflections in the lake below.
Where to start?
Everything cracks and shakes,
The air trembles with similes,
No one world's better than another;
the earth moans with metaphors.
A novel rough draft is like bread dough; you need to beat the crap out of it for it to rise.