Everyday expressions

Where does the phrase “close, but no cigar” come from? 8 idioms' origins

Image: Pisit Heng

Idioms are a rare breed, aren’t they? They confuse non-native speakers to no end, as they can’t simply be deduced from the meaning of individual words. After all, who in their right mind would accuse someone of stealing their intangible thunder? Or complain about having to burn lamp oil at midnight?

English speakers use these idioms all the time but rarely stop to figure out where they come from. If you were ever curious about how spilling beans might connect to confessing a secret, then this article is exactly what you need.

Image: Michał Mancewicz

The very literal origin of this idiom comes from the play "Appius and Virginia," written by English dramatist John Dennis in the early 1700s. For the production of his play, Dennis created a new method to imitate the sound of thunder. Sadly, "Appius and Virginia" had disappointing attendance and was canceled shortly after. However, Dennis soon after discovered that a production of Macbeth was using his thunder device, to critical acclaim. According to literary scholar Joseph Spence, Dennis angrily exclaimed, "Damn them! They will not let my play run, but they steal my thunder."

Image: Yohan Cho

This idiom has a surprising lighthearted aspect to it. While its meaning entails soul-crushing defeat, one can’t help but also imagine a Groucho Marx-looking character chewing on a big cigar. And this lightheartedness might not be completely accidental: After all, this idiom comes from the cheerful world of carnival games.

In the late 19th century, carnival games were targeted for adults, not children. Therefore, instead of handing out oversized stuffed animals of undefined species, winners might receive objects like cigars as prizes. The idiom "close but no cigar" was born from those players that almost won, but didn’t earn a prize.

Image: Tyler Hilton

The most widely accepted use of this idiom comes from America’s very own national pastime: baseball. In 1916, the New York Giants (now known as the San Francisco Giants) had an incredible winning streak of 26 consecutive games. The Giants believed that, if they were in the lead during the last inning of a game, moving a bag filled with extra baseballs off the field would secure their victory. They had "captured" the game in the bag. This team’s superstition has now evolved into an everyday idiom that means secured and complete success.

Image: Milada Vigerova

Picture this: You are at work, hanging by the water cooler, and you are trying to get your favorite coworker to reveal a piece of office gossip that promises to be huge. We have all been there, but did you know that by asking your coworker to "spill the beans", you might be referencing one of the very first instances of democracy?

The origins of this idiom are still debated, but the consensus is that it most likely comes from a voting system from Ancient Greece. This process involved placing colored beans in a vase (white for yes, black for no). Tallying up the votes would then literally require someone to spill the vase and count each bean that was cast.

Image: Ritabrata Das

Almost every student can attest to spending many sleepless nights burning the midnight oil in front of a seemingly endless pile of textbooks. While the origin of this idiom comes from oil lamps used in the 17th century, students all across the world still refer to this expression when talking about working late into the night.

The first known use of "burning the midnight oil" comes from a book written by English poet Francis Quarles in 1635. More recently, in 1972, country music legends Dolly Parton and Porter Wagoner recorded a collaborative studio album titled The Right Combination • Burning the Midnight Oil.

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While turning a blind eye might make us think about that lenient schoolteacher who occasionally gave us a pass on our missing homework, the most commonly accepted origin of this idiom comes from the nautical world. Specifically, from the iconic 18th century British Admiral Horatio Nelson.

In 1801, Nelson led the British attack alongside fellow Admiral Sir Hyde Parker in the Battle of Copenhagen. Nelson, who was blind in one eye, received a flag message from Parker that urged him to retreat. However, Nelson believed that the British fleet should continue to push forward, so he held his telescope to his blind eye and pretended he hadn’t seen Parker’s message.

Image: Raimond Klavins

Weirdly enough, another unexpected nautical term has found its way into this list! While nowadays feeling "under the weather" means feeling ill, the origin of this idiom dates back to slang used by sailors as far back as the 19th century.

The term "under the weather bow" was used to refer to the side of the ship that was exposed the most during storms. Sailors would seek shelter in their cabins to avoid getting seasick, literally going under the ship’s deck to escape the weather. The first literary use of this term was by American author Donald Grant Mitchell in his 1855 book Fudge Doings. In the book, a character describes a nasty experience in a steamer as feeling "a little under the weather."

Image: Carlos Felipe Ramírez Mesa

Throughout the years, countless parents have repeated the same question to their misbehaving children at the dinner table: "Were you raised by wolves?" And, while the current intention of these parents is to highlight bad manners and improper etiquette, it might hurt their case to learn that several outstanding characters from myths and literature were, in fact, raised by wolves.

Perhaps the first and most famous story of children raised by wolves is that of the founders of Ancient Rome, Romulus, and Remus. In the myth, the brothers are abandoned on the bank of a river, where they are found and nurtured by a she-wolf, before being eventually adopted by a shepherd. Furthermore, the protagonist of Rudyard Kipling’s 1894 novel The Jungle Book is a boy named Mowgli who is raised in the jungle by wolves.

Beloved lyrics

"For what is a man?": Some of the wisest lyric lines ever written

Paul Anka was terrified when he sat down to write the lyrics for a song that Frank Sinatra would be singing. Jokingly, he started with a dramatic, "And now, the end is near…" The rest is history. Who are the people who pen the words that others will spend decades repeating? How did they come up with words so precise and true that listeners would compare them with those of great philosophers? Here are 10 of people’s favorite lyrics of all time, decoded.

"For what is a man? What has he got? If not himself, then he has naught." The melody of "My Way" wasn't originally American. It began as a French song called Comme d'habitude, a number about a couple stuck in a stale marriage. Paul Anka heard it on the radio while in France and bought the rights on the spot, before he had any use for it.

That use arrived at a dinner in Miami, when Sinatra told him, almost in passing, that he was quitting the business. Anka flew home, sat down at a typewriter, and spent one night writing lyrics as if Sinatra himself were speaking them. Sinatra recorded it in two takes and later called it his "national anthem," and many agreed; Anka had written the exact words one wants to belt while closing an episode of their life.

In "Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy)," John Lennon wrote: "Life is what happens to you while you are busy making other plans." But the phrase originated with American writer and cartoonist Allen Saunders, who published it in a 1957 issue of Reader's Digest ("Life is what happens to us while we are making other plans").

The line outlived everything else about the song, repeated at graduations and eulogies for decades since. Lennon was murdered shortly after the album's release, which means the song now carries a weight of hindsight neither he nor his listeners could have intended at the time.

"How many roads must a man walk down before you call him a man?" A young Bob Dylan wrote "Blowin' in the Wind" in 1962. He later claimed he wrote the entire song in about ten minutes at the Gaslight Cafe in Greenwich Village, borrowing its melody from the old spiritual "No More Auction Block." He was twenty-one, barely a year into his New York career, and insisted at the time it wasn't a protest song at all.

The song never answers its questions, but keeps asking them. First published in the folk magazine Broadside in May 1962, it became the unofficial anthem of the civil rights and antiwar movements once Peter, Paul and Mary's cover shot to number two on the charts in 1963.

"... is equal to the love you make." This is the last song the four Beatles ever recorded together, and Paul McCartney built it deliberately as a farewell. He gave Ringo Starr his only drum solo in the band's history, a fight McCartney had to win through what he called "gentle persuasion," since Starr detested solos on principle.

For the closing line, McCartney said he'd been thinking about Shakespeare, who often ended a scene with a rhyming couplet so the audience would know it was truly over. Even John Lennon, who generally disliked the Abbey Road medley and rarely praised his old partner's work by 1980, admitted the closing thought was "a very cosmic, philosophical line."

"... but it’s better than drinking alone." "Piano Man", by Billy Joel, narrates a song in which the character is real. Joel wrote it about the six months he spent playing piano under the fake name "Bill Martin" at a Los Angeles lounge called The Executive Room. Even the waitress "practicing politics" was Elizabeth Weber, the woman who'd soon become his wife.

Joel wrote it while hiding out from a record label he was desperate to escape after his debut album flopped. It became a bittersweet anthem that many people love singing with others; it seems like, as the song suggests, singing sorrows together at the bar is better than feeling them at home.

The whole song "Both Sides Now," by Joni Mitchell, is often quoted as a deeply philosophical observation of life. It concludes that some mysteries of life are as unknowable as the clouds, or love, despite accumulating experience.

When she wrote it, Mitchell had recently given up a daughter for adoption after being left by the child's father. She was twenty-three, mid-flight, after a passage in Saul Bellow's novel Henderson the Rain King described its narrator looking down at clouds from an airplane, something human eyes had only been able to do for a few decades. Judy Collins released it first in 1967 and won a Grammy for it; Mitchell's own version didn't appear until her 1969 album Clouds.

Kris Kristofferson’s song, "Me and Bobby McGee", contains one of people’s favorite quotes from song lyrics. Its title came from producer Fred Foster, who suggested Kristofferson write a song about his colleague's secretary, Barbara "Bobbie" McKee.

Its most quoted idea about freedom and loss was inspired, Kristofferson later said, by the final scene of Fellini's La Strada, in which a man realizes too late what he threw away. Roger Miller released it first, but it was Janis Joplin's posthumous 1971 recording, finished mere days before her death, that turned it into a number one hit and an accidental epitaph.

"... and I'm getting older too." Nicks says she wrote "Landslide" in about five minutes, sitting in a rented house in Aspen while her partner and musical collaborator, Lindsey Buckingham, was on tour rehearsing with the Everly Brothers. The song's real subject isn't romance, but the vertigo of watching time pass. She was twenty-seven, broke, working as a waitress and a cleaner, and their duo album had just been dropped by its label.

Looking at the snow on the Rockies, she found herself deciding whether to keep chasing music at all. Three months later, Mick Fleetwood heard Buckingham's guitar work on a demo and invited the pair into Fleetwood Mac, which changed their lives. The song has now aged into an anthem for anyone facing a hinge point in their own life.

"You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometime you'll find you get what you need." Mick Jagger sketched this one alone on an acoustic guitar, calling it "one of those bedroom songs." It closed 1969's Let It Bleed just as the decade's peace-and-love optimism was cracking.

The song is upbeat and simple, and unexpectedly insists on an idea of acceptance or surrender that has more to do with Stoic philosophy than with pop rock optimism. But the listeners liked it, and many quote it often.

"...that's how the light gets in." Leonard Cohen worked on "Anthem" for roughly a decade, discarding draft after draft, before it finally appeared on his 1992 album The Future. He wasn't a man given to explaining his own lyrics, having spent years training as an ordained Zen Buddhist monk and generally preferring silence to self-analysis.

But "Anthem" has the clearest statement of a philosophy he'd circled his entire career: that brokenness can give way to grace. It has since been invoked by human rights activists, quoted at protests, and performed at civic ceremonies.