Shadow Metaphor Quotes

Follow a shadow, it still flies you, Seem to fly, it will pursue: So court a mistress, she denies you; Let her alone, she will court you. Say are not women truly, then, Styled but the shadows of us men?

Everything that we see is a shadow cast by that which we do not see.

I don’t care much for facts, am not much interested in them, you cant stand a fact up, you’ve got to prop it up, and when you move to one side a little and look at it from that angle, it’s not thick enough to cast a shadow in that direction.

Even one hair has a shadow.

...They cannot escape their history any more than you yourself can lose your shadow.

Death cannot be struggled against, brother. It ever arrives, defiant of every hiding place, of every frantic attempt to escape. Death is every mortal's shadow, his true shadow, and time is its servant, spinning that shadow slowly round, until what stretched behind one now stretches before him.

We are, in fact, hyper-dimentional objects of some sort which cast a shadow into matter, and the shadow in matter is the body. And at death, what happens basically, is that the shadow withdraws, or the thing which cast the shadow withdraws, and metabolism ceases, and matter which had been organized into a dissipative structure in a very localized area, sustaining itself against entropy by cycling material in and degrading it and expelling it, that whole phenomenon ceases, but the thing which ordered it is not affected by that.

Men think to mend their condition by a change of circumstances. They might as well hope to escape from their shadows.

The shadows didn't seem as dark as usual. Not with my personal sun along.

Like our shadows, our wishes lengthen as our sun declines.

Our days on earth are like a shadow, and the time of our affliction is the length of our days.

Some shadows are so long, they arrive before the light.

I like to help others and count it as my greatest pleasure in life to see a person free himself of the shadows which darken his days. These shadows look so thick to him and weigh him down so that when he finds they are shadows and that he can see through them, walk through them and be again in the sun, he is enormously delighted. And I am afraid I am just as delighted as he is.

The past is as powerless to darken the present moment as is a shadow to reach up and drag down the form that casts it.

Is an institution always a man's shadow shortened in the sun, the lowest common denominator of everybody in it?