On reading - Dan H.

DanHolohan

and I always keep a folded 8-1/2" X 11" piece of paper in each book as a bookmark. I use this paper to collect colorful phrases when I come across them. When the page is filled I transfer the phrases into a Word file. I've borrowed many of these in my writing. They're the spice that makes the reading more enjoyable. Here's a sample of some of the things I just added this morning. Enjoy!

His nose jutted forward like a hand waiting to be shook.

Her voice was like a closed fist.

It was like talking colors to a blind man.

His car stood out like a zit on a Revlon commercial.

An elephant gun couldn’t have quieted him.

The enthusiasm of a eunuch at an orgy.

The brains of a citrus beverage.

A voice like an old tire on an unpaved road.

He looked like he had spent the night in the bottom of a clothes hamper.

She had been watching the monkey instead of the organ grinder.

She looked like sex on a stick.

She gave him a smile that corkscrewed right through his heart.

It was like explaining jazz music to a lawn chair.

I like grudges. They’re easier than forgiveness.

Uglier than a cow living near Chernobyl.

The neighborhood looked like a man who had lost his job and stopped bathing.

The summer air smelling like a lover’s hair.

A voice like warm honey on Sunday pancakes.

The silence pressed against the windows and doors.

He looked like a box of Crayolas left too long on a hot dashboard.

There’s a fine line between relentless and stupid.

The heft of his gut dropped over his belt buckle like a stack of pancakes.

A whirling dust storm of violence.

She dominated the meeting like a candle in a cave.

Pinocchio, you’re a real boy now.

I’ve got other weenies to roast.

He had a face like a crumpled brown lunch bag.

What would Captain Hops do in this situation? Go have a beer!

His composure and self-confidence struck against the other man’s cold self-confidence like a scythe on a stone.

He enunciated every word distinctly as though they were worth a dollar apiece.

The huge hand, like a rake.

It was so far over his head that he couldn't see the bottom.

She wore underwear that was mortal sin red.

It was like trying to hide a sunrise.

He looked like a human version of beef jerky.

Common sense is never as interesting as fanaticism.

He offered him a broad smile, which looked like a bear trap opening up.

You could bake a fish on the radiator.

His voice was a stone that dropped through the conversation.

The sun seemed to have shifted so the light was coming through the window at a different angle, as if it were trying to figure a way through the house.

The wind shifted its attack, blowing hard against one side, then another, like a relative locked out of the house.

It was Saddam Hussein's idea of a horse.

A flurry of children.

A pale cloudless sky, as if someone had thrown bleach water across the sky.

They sold so many that they ran out of zeros

The heat was so intense you could lean on it.

He looked nice, but easily forgettable, like somebody's nephew at a funeral.