On May 25, 1843, Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote in his journal:
The sky is the daily bread of the eyes.
One can almost imagine the scene. It is a bright May New England day. Emerson is rambling through the woods just outside his home town of Concord. With a book in one hand and his ever-present journal tucked safely away in a coat pocket, he leans against a tree, thinking about a passage he has just read or contemplating an idea that has recently occurred to him. Glancing upward, he slowly examines the vastness of the heavens above. Suddenly, an analogy flashes into his mind—as eating food nourishes the body, looking at the sky nourishes the soul.
Emerson the thinker might have been pleased with the analogy, and he might have wondered if the connection had ever occurred to anyone else. More than once he had an insight that seemed original, only to discover later that a legendary thinker had beaten him to the punch (he once said, oxymoronically, “Some of my best thoughts have been stolen by the ancients”).
Emerson the writer, however, may have decided to tinker with the thought, hoping to better express it. Whether the final version came to him immediately, or after several drafts and revisions, the observation that Emerson finally recorded in his journal—the sky is the daily bread of the eyes—is a remarkable metaphor, and arguably the best words ever written on something we see every day but usually take for granted. It may even be regarded as the definitive observation on the subject.
In a usage note on the word definitive in the American Heritage Dictionary, the editors write:
Definitive generally refers specifically to a judgment or description that serves as a standard or reference point for others, as in…the definitive biography of Nelson (i.e., the biography that sets the standard against which all other accounts of Nelson’s life must be measured).
As there are definitive biographies, there are definitive quotations—observations that are so exceptionally well phrased they set the bar for all other observations on the same subjects. Emerson’s sky metaphor deserves such a distinction. And many definitive quotations on a variety of other subjects are also metaphors.
There is even a definitive metaphorical quote on the topic of definitions. Before we look at it, though, here’s the formal meaning, again from the American Heritage Dictionary:
Definition. A statement of the meaning of a word, phrase, or term, as in a dictionary definition.
It’s an adequate description, yes. But like so many dictionary definitions, it’s not particularly exciting. To word and language lovers, though, there is nothing unexciting about dictionary definitions. But it was not until I found an observation in the 1912 Notebooks of the English writer Samuel Butler that I found a metaphorical description that perfectly described the drama of the lexicographer’s task:
A definition is the enclosing
a wilderness of idea within a wall of words.
This is a remarkable observation, conjuring up a delightfully vivid image of lexicographers as cowboys or frontier settlers, corralling wild ideas inside the confines of a series of carefully constructed words. No previous observation on the subject of definitions even comes close, making this the definitive one. That is, Butler’s metaphorical observation may be considered the standard by which all other similar observations on the subject of definitions must be measured.
On many subjects, it’s difficult to select a single definitive quote. For example, I have long believed that the best observation ever made on the subject of architecture was an 1829 observation by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe:
I call architecture frozen music.
If one could freeze music, and then shape it into a form, it would seem appropriate to view it as a kind of architecture. Over the years, I’ve come across several additional architecture metaphors, and none could rival Goethe’s spectacular creation. Then I came across this observation from Constantin Brancusi:
Architecture is inhabited sculpture.
Here, the legendary sculptor asserts that architecture is sculpture, and a kind of sculpture inhabited by people. Nobody had ever before described sculpture in this way, but when one examines the many striking office buildings that have been built in recent years, the observation is perfectly apt. Which of the two observations is the definitive one? You be the judge.
You can also cast your vote for one of three observations on faith. They’re all wonderfully phrased, and they come from three of my favorite writers. For me, selecting only one involved the pain of rejecting two, and I just didn’t have the heart to do it.
Faith is an oasis in the heart
which will never be reached by the caravan of thinking.
Faith is taking the first step even when you don’t see the whole staircase.
Faith is the bird that feels the light and sings while the dawn is still dark.
You can also weigh in on two metaphors on fame. They come from two of history’s most graceful and stylish writers, and so far are in a dead heat:
Fame is a pearl many dive for and only a few bring up.
Fame is a fickle food upon a shifting plate.
Many definitive metaphors are brief and pithy, as when an anonymous wag once described a cubicle as “a padded cell without a door.” Or when Clifton Fadiman referred to cheese as “milk’s leap toward immortality.” Others are slightly longer, like this spectacular observation from Canadian writer Mark Abley’s delightful 2003 book, Spoken Here: Travels Among Threatened Languages:
Modern English is the Wal-Mart of languages:
convenient, huge, hard to avoid, superficially friendly,
and devouring all rivals in its eagerness to expand.
A variety of metaphorical observations on the English language have made it into my personal quotation collection, including William Safire’s terrific remark that “English is a stretch language; one size fits all.” As good as the others are, though, they can’t match Abley’s inspired observation. What it lacks in brevity it makes up in wit and originality. And, because it attempts to illuminate one thing—English—by relating it to something that, at first glance, couldn’t seem more dissimilar—Wal-Mart—it is a perfect metaphor.
In the remainder of the chapter, I will present more metaphorical observations that, in my opinion, set the standard for all other observations on the subjects examined. Unlike other chapters in the book, the quotations here will not be arranged alphabetically by author, but by the central subject of the quote. We’ll begin with action and end with zeal. Think of this chapter as a brief A-to-Z dictionary of definitive metaphorical quotations.
A man’s action is only a picture book of his creed.
The adjective is the banana peel of the parts of speech.
This comes from a 1956 Reader’s Digest article titled “Beware the Awful Adjective.” Used wisely, Fadiman argued, adjectives enliven and enhance language. But when used badly, they cause a multitude of slip-ups. Quotation anthologist James Simpson hailed this as one of the “best quotes of 1956.”
Adventure is the champagne of life.
All affectation is the vain and ridiculous attempt of poverty to appear rich.
Unsolicited advice is the junk mail of life.
Anger is a wind which blows out the lamp of the mind.
Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom.
The aphorism is a personal observation inflated into a universal truth,
a private posing as a general.
An apology is the superglue of life. It can repair just about anything.
Autumn is a second spring, when every leaf is a flower.
A bagel is a doughnut with the sin removed.
Our birthdays are feathers in the broad wing of time.
Business is a combination of war and sport.
The cat is a dilettante in fur.
Chance is the pseudonym of God when he did not want to sign.
Chaos is the score upon which reality is written.
Charm is a glow within a woman that casts a most becoming light on others.
Coincidences are spiritual puns.
The dew of compassion is a tear.
Compromise makes a good umbrella, but a poor roof.
Conscience reigns but it does not govern.
Courage is the ladder on which all the other virtues mount.
I also like this one from Mignon McLaughlin: “Courage can’t see around corners, but goes around them anyway.”
The dance is a poem of which each movement is a word.
Mata Hari was the stage name of a Dutch exotic dancer whose scantily clad dance routines and openly promiscuous life style captivated Parisian society in the early 1900s. She was found guilty—on flimsy evidence—of espionage and executed by a French firing squad in 1917. After Greta Garbo brought her story to the big screen in the 1931 film Mata Hari, she became known as a classic femme fatale, and her name became an eponym for a beautiful female double agent. Another memorable metaphorical observation on dancing came from George Bernard Shaw, who called it “a perpendicular expression of a horizontal desire.”
Despair is vinegar from the wine of hope.
The point is that people wouldn’t feel despair unless they first felt hope. And just as bad wine turns into vinegar, dashed hopes often turn into despair.
Doctrine is nothing but the skin of truth set up and stuffed.
The dog…is the god of frolic.
Doodling is the brooding of the mind.
A discovery is said to be an accident meeting a prepared mind.
The allusion here is to a famous remark from Louis Pasteur, who said in 1854: “Where observation is concerned, chance favors only the prepared mind.”
The dress is a vase which the body follows.
Egotism is the anesthetic that dulls the pain of stupidity.
Euphemisms are unpleasant truths wearing diplomatic cologne.
This is a remarkable observation in its own right, but the full passage in which it appeared is even more impressive: “Euphemisms are not…useless verbiage for that which can and should be said bluntly; they are like secret agents on a delicate mission, they must airily pass by a stinking mess with barely so much as a nod of the head, make their point of constructive criticism and continue on in calm forbearance. Euphemisms are unpleasant truths wearing diplomatic cologne.”
An exaggeration is a truth that has lost its temper.
Failure is the condiment that gives success its flavor.
Feedback is the breakfast of champions.
The flower is the poetry of reproduction.
Fame is the perfume of heroic deeds.
A close contender here was Luther Burbank’s “A flower is an educated weed.” On uneducated weeds, Ralph Waldo Emerson observed, “What is a weed? A plant whose virtues have not yet been discovered.” And on weeds in general, Ella Wheeler Wilcox wrote simply, “A weed is but an unloved flower.”
Freedom is the oxygen of the soul.
Genius is a promontory jutting out into the infinite.
Global warming might be a fever the earth is running
in an attempt to ward off a deadly infection known as homo sapiens.
God is a metaphor for that which transcends
all levels of intellectual thought. It’s as simple as that.
Goodness is the only investment that never fails.
Gratitude is the heart’s memory.
Habit is a cable; we weave a thread of it each day,
and at last we cannot break it.
Happiness makes up in height for what it lacks in length.
This was the title of a 1942 poem that figuratively captured the allure of happiness. Ralph Waldo Emerson is often credited with another classic on the subject, but so far I have been unable to find the original observation in any of his published works: “Happiness is a perfume you cannot pour on others without getting a few drops on yourself.”
Honesty is the first chapter of the book of wisdom.
A house is a machine for living in.
A hunch is creativity trying to tell you something.
Ignorance is the night of the mind.
Imagination is intelligence with an erection.
This is the only R-rated observation to be found in this chapter, and some may find it inappropriate. But even if you do, you must admit that it stimulates quite an image. A more socially acceptable—and also exceptional—observation comes from Joseph Joubert: “Imagination is the eye of the soul.”
Inspiration could be called inhaling the memory of an act never experienced.
Jazz is the music of the body.
Journalism is literature in a hurry.
Justice is truth in action.
Is not a kiss the very autograph of love?
This observation comes from Finck’s 1887 book Romantic Love and Personal Beauty. Finck, a nineteenth-century music critic who was also interested in philosophy and the classics, may have inspired a famous Mae West line: “A man’s kiss is his signature.” There have been many other wonderful kiss observations, but another potentially definitive one is this classic from Edmond Rostand’s Cyrano de Bergerac: “’Tis a secret told to the mouth instead of to the ear.”
Laughter is the sun that drives winter from the human face.
Letters are expectation packed in an envelope.
A line is a dot that went for a walk.
Memory is a crazed woman that hoards colored rags and throws away food.
The point is that we forget the essential and remember—often with great clarity—the tantalizing trivia. Other deserving candidates on this subject include:
“Our memories are card indexes consulted and then put back in disorder, by authorities whom we do not control.” Cyril Connolly
Memory is the personal journalism of the soul.” Richard Schickel
The mind, of course, is just what the brain does for a living.
Moral indignation is jealousy with a halo.
Music is the wine that fills the cup of silence.
Nostalgia is a seductive liar.
Opportunity is missed by most people
because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work.
Henry J. Kaiser said similarly: “Trouble is only opportunity in work clothes.”
Passion makes the best observations
and the most wretched conclusions.
Another favorite, from Ralph Waldo Emerson, is this: “Passion, though a bad regulator, is a powerful spring.”
The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.
On the same subject, Maxim Gorky wrote in The Lower Depths (1903): “In the carriages of the past you can’t go anywhere.”
Peanut butter is paté for children.
The piano is a monster that screams when you touch its teeth.
Popularity? It’s glory’s small change.
Poverty is the mother of crime.
A prayer, in its simplest definition,
is merely a wish turned heavenward.
Procrastination is the thief of time.
A promise is an IOU.
A proverb is anonymous human history compressed to the size of a seed.
If I were personally to define religion,
I would say that it is a bandage that man has invented
to protect a soul made bloody by circumstance.
Research is the process of going up alleys to see if they are blind.
A riot is at bottom the language of the unheard.
Rock and roll is the hamburger that ate the world.
Scientists are peeping toms at the keyhole of eternity.
Skepticism is the chastity of the intellect.
The point is that we should apply the admonition about keeping one’s chastity to our mental as well as our physical life. That is, we should retain our skepticism as long as possible and avoid giving it up too early—or too easily—to a seductive idea.
Slang is language that takes off its coat, spits on its hands, and goes to work.
Tact is after all a kind of mind-reading.
Tears are the safety valve of the heart
when too much pressure is laid on it.
That great, growling engine of change—technology.
Thought is the seed of action.
Time is a dressmaker specializing in alterations.
Toleration is the best religion.
Truth is error burned up.
Some other close contenders in this category include the following:
“The color of truth is gray.” André Gide
“Truth is a fruit which should not be plucked until it is ripe.” Voltaire
“The best mind-altering drug is truth.” Jane Wagner (for Lily Tomlin)
Twilight: A time of pause when nature changes her guard.
Virtual reality is just air guitar writ large.
Virtue is the beauty of the soul.
The voice is a second face.
Vulgarity is the garlic in the salad of charm.
Wine is bottled poetry.
A word is a bud attempting to become a twig.
Zeal is a volcano, on the peak of which
the grass of indecisiveness does not grow.