Analogies and Metaphors. Take your drink AWAY from the 'puter!
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(Oh, what a tangled web we cross when we get to it...)
Analogies and Metaphors Found in High School Essays:
His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and
breaking alliances like
underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.
She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and
he was room-temperature Canadian beef.
She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that
sound a dog makes just before it throws up.
Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree.
The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had
disintegrated because of
his wife's infidelity came as a rude shock, like a
surcharge to a formerly surcharge-free ATM.
The little boat gently drifted across the pond
exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't.
McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a
Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.
From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole
scene had an eerie, surreal
quality, like when you're on vacation in another
city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of
7:30.
Her hair glistened in the rain like nose hair after
a sneeze.
The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like
maggots when you fry them in hot grease.
Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed
lovers raced across the
grassy field toward each other like two freight
trains, one having left
Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the
other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.
John and Mary had never met. They were like two
hummingbirds who had also never met.
He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant
and she was the East River.
Even in his last years, Grandpappy had a mind like a
steel trap, only one that had been left out so long,
it had rusted shut.
Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.
The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil.
But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.
The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you
get from not eating for a while.
He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame
duck, either, but a real
duck that was actually lame. Maybe from stepping on
a land mine or something.
The knife was as sharp as the tone used by Rep.
Sheila Jackson Lee (D-Tex.)
in her first several points of parliamentary
procedure made to Rep. Henry
Hyde (R-Ill.) in the House Judiciary Committee
hearings on the impeachment
of President William Jefferson Clinton.
The ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended
one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.
It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing
kids around with power tools.
He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he
heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.
Her eyes were like limpid pools, only they had
forgotten to put in any pH cleanser.
She walked into my office like a centipede with 98
missing legs. Her voice had that tense, grating quality,
like a generation thermal paper FAX machine that needed a band
tightened.
It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you
accidentally staple it to the wall.
Analogies and Metaphors Found in High School Essays:
His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and
breaking alliances like
underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.
She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and
he was room-temperature Canadian beef.
She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that
sound a dog makes just before it throws up.
Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree.
The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had
disintegrated because of
his wife's infidelity came as a rude shock, like a
surcharge to a formerly surcharge-free ATM.
The little boat gently drifted across the pond
exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't.
McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a
Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.
From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole
scene had an eerie, surreal
quality, like when you're on vacation in another
city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of
7:30.
Her hair glistened in the rain like nose hair after
a sneeze.
The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like
maggots when you fry them in hot grease.
Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed
lovers raced across the
grassy field toward each other like two freight
trains, one having left
Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the
other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.
John and Mary had never met. They were like two
hummingbirds who had also never met.
He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant
and she was the East River.
Even in his last years, Grandpappy had a mind like a
steel trap, only one that had been left out so long,
it had rusted shut.
Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.
The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil.
But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.
The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you
get from not eating for a while.
He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame
duck, either, but a real
duck that was actually lame. Maybe from stepping on
a land mine or something.
The knife was as sharp as the tone used by Rep.
Sheila Jackson Lee (D-Tex.)
in her first several points of parliamentary
procedure made to Rep. Henry
Hyde (R-Ill.) in the House Judiciary Committee
hearings on the impeachment
of President William Jefferson Clinton.
The ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended
one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.
It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing
kids around with power tools.
He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he
heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.
Her eyes were like limpid pools, only they had
forgotten to put in any pH cleanser.
She walked into my office like a centipede with 98
missing legs. Her voice had that tense, grating quality,
like a generation thermal paper FAX machine that needed a band
tightened.
It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you
accidentally staple it to the wall.
marji
I've seen these before, Kelly. These two are my absolute favorites; they
made laugh out loud in the middle of the night when I first saw them. ~Marji
made laugh out loud in the middle of the night when I first saw them. ~Marji
>Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
>grassy field toward each other like two freight
>trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the
>other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.
>
>The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this
>plan just might work.