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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. Anonymous | 1 |
The heart of a man is like a delicate weed, That requires to be trampled on boldly indeed. Anonymous | 2 |
A flinty heart within a snowy breast Is like base mold lockd in a golden chest. Francis Beaumont | 3 |
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. Anne Brontë | 4 |
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. Lord Byron | 5 |
A maidens heart is as champagne, ever struggling upward. Charles Stuart Calverley | 6 |
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 | 7 |
My heart is like the fair sea-shell, Theres music ever in it. Eliza Cook | 8 |
A womans heart is as intricate as a ravelled skein of silk. Alexandre Dumas, père | 9 |
Some hearts are like a melting peach, but with a larger, coarser, harder stone. Julius Charles Hare | 10 |
Hearts, like apples, are hard and sour, Till crushed by Pains resistless power. Josiah Gilbert Holland | 11 |
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. Yohida Kenk | 12 |
His heart was like a bookful of girls song. Francis Ledwidge | 13 |
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. Samuel Lover | 14 |
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. Martin Luther | 15 |
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. John Lyly | 16 |
The heart is like an instrument whose strings steal nobler music from lifes mystic frets. Gerald Massey | 17 |
A wise mans heart is like a broad hearth that keeps the coales [his passions] from burning the house. Sir Thomas Overbury | 18 |
A heart is like a new housethe ones that dry the plastering are not the true tenants. Éduard Pailleron | 19 |
His heart is like a mountain of iron. Pentaur | 20 |
The hearts of pretty women, like New Years bonbons, are wrapped in enigmas. J. Petit-Senn | 21 |
A womans heart, like the moon, is always changing, but there is always a man in it. Punch | 22 |
Heavy hearts, like heavy clouds in the sky, are best relieved by the letting of water. Antoine Rivarol | 23 |
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 | 24 |
Her heart is like an ordered house Good fairies harbour in. Christina Georgina Rossetti | 25 |
A noble heart, like the sun, showeth its greatest countenance in its lowest estate. Sir Philip Sidney | 26 |
Burning lips and a wicked heart are like a potsherd covered with silver dross. Old Testament | 27 |
A womans heart is just like a lithographers stone,what is once written upon it cannot be rubbed out. William Makepeace Thackeray | 28 |
My heart is like fire in a close vessel: I am ready to burst for want of vent. John Wesley | 29 |
Her heart is like an outbound ship That at its anchor swings. John Greenleaf Whittier | 30 |
Heart as calm as lakes that sleep, In frosty moonlight glistening. William Wordsworth | 31 |
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