Home  »  A Dictionary of Similes  »  Guy de Maupassant

Frank J. Wilstach, comp. A Dictionary of Similes. 1916.

Guy de Maupassant

One of those beautiful, brilliant enigmas, which irresistibly allure every one like a sphinx.

Alluring as a ripe peach.

Caressing as a kiss.

Closed his eyes, like a priest who at evening service closes the gold tabernacle after Benediction.

As contemptible as any man who breaks open a lock, or as any rascal on the lookout for a house left defenseless and without protection, or as any adventurer looking for some easy and profitable stroke of business.

Empty as space.

Vacant eyes, blue as the flowers of the flax plant.

Unfathomable eyes, which hid their secrets under the undisturbed serenity of majestic repose, like a mountain lake, whose waters seem black on account of their depth.

As flabby as a sponge.

I had seen the Arab galloping like the wind.

His eyes dilated and glistened like the last flame that shoots up from an expiring fire.

Gnarled like olive branches.

Groped like a blind man finding his way.

Happy as a miner when he has discovered a vein of precious metal.

Happy as a schoolgirl going home for the holidays.

Fingers, hard as a lobster’s claws.

Intoxicated as a colt that has been turned into a meadow.

Laughed as incessantly as a bird sings.

Holding his breath and listening … like a burglar who is going to break into a house.

Melancholy sound … like the weeping of a solitary, deserted human heart.

Motionless as a spectre.

Mouth that looked like a red gash from a sabre cut.

Painful, as a visit to the dentist.

The country was panting like a wrestler lying under the knees of his successful opponent.

Sleeping as peacefully as a little girl tired of playing.

Penetrated him like a gimlet.

She was well preserved by a tranquil existence, like winter fruit in a closed cupboard.

Pressed her like corn that has been crushed in the mill.

She is as pure, as good, and as beautiful as an angel.

Recoiled, as if she had been face to face with an apparition.

Round like pumpkins.

Made one shiver unpleasantly, as when the Espanña comes to close quarters with the infuriated brute at a bull fight.

Sniffing like a dog after game.

Soft and thick as a feather bed.

Stiff as iron bars.

Straight like vine poles.

Supple as a snake.

Supple as if they were on springs.

Swaying about like a fat goose with enormous legs and yielding knees.

Tortuous as a labyrinth.

Transparent as glass.

Lips trembled like those of a man caught in the act of doing wrong.

Turned like a weather cock with every wind.

White and pure as any bridal veil.

Wrinkled like a last year’s apple.

Writhed like a feather on the fire.