Metaphor

"Hope" is the thing with feathers -

alone in a dark wood.

from the straight road and woke to find myself

Whan that Aprill with his shoures soote

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles

To the last syllable of recorded time;

that I might infuse a spark of being into the lifeless thing that lay before me.

It was on a dreary night of November that I beheld the accomplishment of my toils. With

My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods: time will change it, I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees. My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of …

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

I sing the body electric,

So long as there shall exist, by reason of law and custom, a social condemnation, which, in the face of civilization, artificially creates hells on earth, and complicates a destiny that is divine with human fatality; so long as the three problems of the age—the degradation of man by poverty, …

Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

It must be added that she had a very slender repertoire of smiles, and that these were all produced upon the recommendation of her father.

I learned to recognize the thorough and primitive duality of man; I saw that, of the two natures that contended in the field of my consciousness, even if I could rightly be said to be either, it was only because I was radically both.

Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole,

To Sherlock Holmes she is always the woman. I have seldom heard him mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses and predominates the whole of her sex.

The cold passed reluctantly from the earth, and the retiring fogs revealed an army stretched out on the hills, resting. As the landscape changed from brown to green, the army …

I remember the whole beginning as a succession of flights and drops, a little seesaw of the right throbs and the wrong. After rising, in town, to meet his appeal, I had at all events a couple of very bad …

I remember the whole beginning as a succession of flights and drops, a little seesaw of the right throbs and the wrong. After rising, in town, to meet his appeal, I had at all events a couple of very bad days—found myself …

The voice of the sea is seductive; never ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander for a spell in abysses of solitude; to lose itself in mazes of inward contemplation.

He was sounding the deeps of his nature, and of the parts of his nature that were deeper than he, going back into the womb of Time.