|Frank J. Wilstach, comp. A Dictionary of Similes. 1916.|
| Beauty is like an almanac; if it lasts a year, it is well.|
| Beauty without modesty is like a flower broken from its stem.|
| Beauty is as summer fruits, which are easy to corrupt and that cannot last.|
| Beauty, like truth and justice, lives within us; like virtue and like moral law, it is a companion of the soul.|
| As amber attracts a straw, so does beauty admiration, which only lasts while the warmth continues; but virtue, wisdom, goodness, and real worth, like the loadstone, never lose their power.|
| Beauty in a modest woman is like fire or a sharp sword at a distance; neither doth the one burn, nor the other wound, those that come not too near them.|
Miguel de Cervantes
|Beauty, like ice, our footing does betray:|
Who can tread sure in the smooth slippery way?
Pleased with the passage, we slide swiftly on,
And see the dangers which we cannot shun.
| We cannot get at beauty. Its nature is like opaline doves-neck lustres, hovering and evanescent.|
Ralph Waldo Emerson
| Thy beauty lies|
Veiled like a violet nestling in the moss.
| The made-up beauties we commonly meet, like artificial flowers, are all show, and no fragrance.|
|Beautys a slippry good, which decreaseth|
Whilst it is increasing resembling the
Medlar, which, in the moment of its full
Ripeness, is known to be in a rottenness.
| Beautie is like the blackberry, which seemeth red, when it is not ripe, resembling precious stones that are polished with honie, which the smoother they looke, the sooner they breake.|
| Beauty,like a beacon burns above the dark of strife.|
|Beauty, like the fair Hesperian tree,|
Laden with blooming gold, hath need the guard
Of dragon watch with unenchanted eye,
To save her blossoms and defend her fruit
From the rash hand of bold incontinence.
| A chaste beauty is like the bellows, whose breath is cold, yet makes others burn.|
Sir Thomas Overbury
|Her beauties were like sunlit snows,|
Flushd but not warmd with my desire.
|Beauties, like tyrants, old and friendless grown,|
Yet hate repose, and dread to be alone.
|Ah! yet doth beauty like a dial-hand,|
Steal from his figure and no pace perceived.
| Beauty, like truth, never is so glorious as when it goes plainest.|
|Beauty, like supreme dominion,|
Is best supported by opinion.
| Beauty passes like a breath.|
| A beauty masked, like the sun in eclipse, gathers together more gazers than if it shined out.|