|Frank J. Wilstach, comp. A Dictionary of Similes. 1916.|
| The humble soul is like the violet, which grows low, hangs the head downward, and hides itself with its own leaves.|
|Souls fly forth, like sparks of light|
From clear white fires by whirlwinds fanned.
William J. Dawson
| My soul is like those sieves in which gold-washers of Mexico gather bits of the pure metal in the torrents of the Cordilleras. The sand falls through them, the gold remains.|
Alphonse M. L. Lamartine
|My soul is like the oar that momently|
Dies in a desperate stress beneath the wave,
Then glitters out again and sweeps the sea:
Each second Im new-born from some new grave.
| As the waifs cast up by the sea change with the changing season, so the tides of the soul throw up their changing drift on the sand, but the sea beyond is one for ever.|
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
|An evil soul, producing holy witness,|
Is like a villain with a smiling cheek;
A good apple rotten at the heart.
O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath.
| Body and Soul like peevish man and wife, united jar, and yet are loath to part.|