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

Amy Leslie

Abrupt as a sultry little thunder shower.

Clever as Chat-Noir impromptu.

Cold as a skeleton.

Complex as a mathematician’s schedule of the Zodiac.

Crisp as wintergreen berries.

Dewy as a spring morning.

Dishonest as local elections.

Drifts like April snow.

Eerie as a witch’s ballad.

Effervescent as young wine.

Fine as bronze floss.

Fit her as a helmet might a hero.

Funny as an open switch.

Handily as a Tacoma Indian picks hops.

Handsome as a Detaille chevalier.

Loyal as prairie scout.

Mighty as an ivy-suffocated tower against a field of johnny-jump-ups.

Modern as an arc light.

Pale as an unawakened Galatea.

Pale as pale November dawn.

Pretty as a rosebud debutante.

Prophetic as the palm of Parsifal’s hand.

Quiet as a nest of monasteries.

Scintillating as a poet’s rapture.

Silent as the Trafalgar Square lions.

Sweet as a bell in the woods.

Sympathetic as chameleons.

True as the Apocalypse.

Voluptuous as a tropical night.