Simile

Curley stepped over to Lennie like a terrier. 'What the hell you laughin' at?'

Just like heaven. Ever’body wants a little piece of lan’. I read plenty of books out here. Nobody never gets to heaven, and nobody gets no land. It’s just in their head.

And she continued to struggle, and her eyes were wild with terror. He shook her then, and he was angry with her. "Don’t you go yellin’," he said, and he shook her; and her body flopped like a fish. And then she was still, for Lennie had broken her neck.

Behind him walked his opposite, a huge man, shapeless of face, with large, pale eyes, with wide, sloping shoulders; and he walked heavily, dragging his feet a little, the way a bear drags his paws.

Slowly, like a terrier who doesn’t want to bring a ball to its master, Lennie approached, drew back, approached again.

She had full, rouged lips and wide–spaced eyes, heavily made up. Her fingernails were red. Her hair hung in little rolled clusters, like sausages.

in and out of the beam flies shot like rushing stars.

They’ll take ya to the booby hatch. They’ll tie ya up with a collar, like a dog.

Suddenly Lennie appeared out of the brush, and he came as silently as a creeping bear moves.