Ordinary language is all right.
One could divide humanity into two classes:
those who master a metaphor, and those who hold by a formula.
Those with a bent for both are too few, they do not comprise a class.
'…in which the prospect is not for the passing of years (until death parts us) but for the willing repetition of days, willingness for the everyday (until our true minds become unreadable to one another).'
'brought to light—that is to within reach of the dim day constituted by their discretions and privacies—'
'But all these times and places and occasions are now and here.'
'…which no day illustrates…'
'—as if the earth sent forth an inward heat to greet the returning sun; not yellow but green is the color of its flame'
'So they destroy one another for us. How is a tradition to come out of that?'
'He could only feel with a terrible pang that there was something in Hetty's life unknown to him; that while he had been rocking himself in the hope that she would come to love him, she was already loving another.'
Nobody nothin nowhere no more.
'Thus the sun whose light and warmth we make use of every day has its circumspectly discovered, eminent places in terms of the changing usability of what it gives us: sunrise, noon, sunset, midnight.'