|A heart is like a fan, and why?|
Twill flutter when a beau is nigh:
Oft times with gentle words hell take it;
Play with it for a while, then break it.
|The heart of a man is like a delicate weed,|
That requires to be trampled on boldly indeed.
|A flinty heart within a snowy breast|
Is like base mold lockd in a golden chest.
| The human heart is like Indian rubber: a little swells it, but a great deal will not burst it. If little more than nothing will disturb it, little less than all things will suffice to break it.|
|The heart is like the sky, a part of heaven;|
But changes, night and day, too, like the sky;
Now oer it clouds and thunder must be driven,
And darkness and destruction as on high;
But when it hath been scorchd and piercd and riven,
Its storms expire in water-drops; the eye
Pours forth, at last, the hearts blood turnd to tears.
| A maidens heart is as champagne, ever struggling upward.|
Charles Stuart Calverley
| The heart is like the tree that gives balm for the wounds of man, only when the iron has wounded it.|
René de François Chateaubriand
|My heart is like the fair sea-shell,|
Theres music ever in it.
| A womans heart is as intricate as a ravelled skein of silk.|
Alexandre Dumas, père
| Some hearts are like a melting peach, but with a larger, coarser, harder stone.|
Julius Charles Hare
|Hearts, like apples, are hard and sour,|
Till crushed by Pains resistless power.
Josiah Gilbert Holland
| The heart of a man has been compared to flowers; but unlike them, it does not wait for the blowing of the wind to be scattered abroad. It is so fleeting and changeful.|
| His heart was like a bookful of girls song.|
|Her heart, like the lake, was as pure and as calm,|
Till love oer it came, like a breeze oer the sea,
And made the heart heave of sweet Mary machree.
| The human heart is like a millstone in a mill; when you put wheat under it, it turns and grinds, and bruises the wheat into flour; if you put no wheat in it, it still grinds on; but then it is itself it grinds, and slowly wears away.|
| My heart is like a hearth where Cupid is making a fire
methinks Venus and Nature stand with each of them a pair of bellowes, the one cooling my low birth, the other kindling my lofty affections.|
| The heart is like an instrument whose strings steal nobler music from lifes mystic frets.|
| A wise mans heart is like a broad hearth that keeps the coales [his passions] from burning the house.|
Sir Thomas Overbury
| A heart is like a new housethe ones that dry the plastering are not the true tenants.|
| His heart is like a mountain of iron.|
| The hearts of pretty women, like New Years bonbons, are wrapped in enigmas.|
| A womans heart, like the moon, is always changing, but there is always a man in it.|
| Heavy hearts, like heavy clouds in the sky, are best relieved by the letting of water.|
|My heart is like a singing bird|
Whose nest is in a watered shoot;
My heart is like an apple-tree
Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit;
My heart is like a rainbow shell
That paddles in a halcyon sea;
My heart is gladder than all these
Because my love is come to me.
Christina Georgina Rossetti
| Her heart is like an ordered house Good fairies harbour in.|
Christina Georgina Rossetti
| A noble heart, like the sun, showeth its greatest countenance in its lowest estate.|
Sir Philip Sidney
| Burning lips and a wicked heart are like a potsherd covered with silver dross.|
| A womans heart is just like a lithographers stone,what is once written upon it cannot be rubbed out.|
William Makepeace Thackeray
| My heart is like fire in a close vessel: I am ready to burst for want of vent.|
|Her heart is like an outbound ship|
That at its anchor swings.
John Greenleaf Whittier
|Heart as calm as lakes that sleep,|
In frosty moonlight glistening.