The neighborhood boys use hyperbole, simile, and imagery in their recollection of the only party thrown at the Lisbon household, which is held in the basement-level rec room (or recreation room) of the house:
The steps were metal-tipped and steep, and as we descended, the light at the bottom grew brighter and brighter, as though we were approaching the molten core of the earth. By the time we reached the last step it was blinding. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead; table lamps burned on every surface. The green and red linoleum checkerboard flamed beneath our buckled shoes. On a card table, the punch bowl erupted lava. The paneled walls gleamed, and for the first few seconds the Lisbon girls were only a patch of glare like a congregation of angels.
As they descend the stairs into the overly-bright rec room, they hyperbolically feel as if they "were approaching the molten core of the earth," an exaggerated description that calls the accuracy of their recollections into account. Here, they employ vivid imagery, noting the "blinding" fluorescent lights that "buzzed overhead," the "green and red linoleum checkerboard" of the floor, and the gleaming "paneled walls" of the room. As they look toward the girls through the glare of this light, they appear to the neighborhood boys "like a congregation of angels," a simile that underscores the boys' exaggerated idealization of the Lisbon sisters, whom they fail to perceive as actual people.
In a passage marked with hyperbole, Mr. Lisbon reflects with surprise on his inability to truly understand his daughters, whom me metaphorically compares to "strangers":
Apparently, as he stepped back inside, he saw Therese come out of the dining room [...] Her high forehead glowed in the light from the street and her cupid’s lips were redder, smaller, and more shapely than he remembered, especially in contrast to her cheeks and chin, which had gained weight. Her eyelashes were crusted, as though recently glued shut. At that moment Mr. Lisbon had the feeling that he didn’t know who she was, that children were only strangers you agreed to live with, and he reached out in order to meet her for the first time.
Earlier, the neighborhood boys help to scrape dead bugs off the side of the Lisbon home, as Mr. Lisbon has stopped taking care of his house and yard following the suicide of Cecilia. However, the boys motives are not quite pure, as they take advantage of the opportunity to observe the Lisbon sisters from the windows. They watch as Mr. Lisbon encounters Therese and suddenly realizes that "he didn't know who she was." Though this is certainly a hyperbolic claim, there is also some truth to it. Though he lives with his daughters and seems to care for them, he does not truly know them, and was unable to predict Cecilia's suicide, which remains a mystery to him. He feels, suddenly, that "children were only strangers you agreed to live with." Though this claim is both hyperbolic and metaphorical, as Therese is by no means a stranger to her father, it again reflects his sudden awareness of the difficulty of truly knowing what other people are thinking or feeling, including those close to him.
In a passage rife with hyperbole, the neighborhood boys narrate Trip Fontaine's attempts to meet Lux at school:
Against the advice of his father and Donald, he put on sunglasses to conceal his staring down the hall. Three times his heart jumped at the decoys of Lux’s sisters, but Mr. Woodhouse had already introduced the day’s speaker—a local television meteorologist—by the time Lux came out of the girls’ bathroom. Trip Fontaine saw her with a concentration so focused he ceased to exist. The world at that moment contained only Lux. A fuzzy aura surrounded her, a shimmering as of atoms breaking apart, brought on, we later decided, from so much blood draining out of Trip’s head.
Trip is regarded as handsome by most of the girls at schools and their mothers, who treat him with great deference. Lux, however, hardly responds to Trip, which only increases his attraction to her. At school, he searches for Lux, feeling that his "heart jumped" when he saw her "decoys," or her sisters who resemble her closely. When Lux emerges from the girls' bathroom, Trip concentrates on her so hard that "he ceased to exist," a clear instance of hyperbole that underscores the intensity of his focus. Similarly, he feels that "the world at that moment contained only Lux," futher emphasizing his exaggerated obsession with the enigmatic girl, who barely acknowledges Trip at all.
In a passage rich with detailed imagery, the neighborhood boys employ hyperbole when returning, after a year, to the rec room (or "recreation room") of the Lisbon family home, where they had once been invited for a chaperoned party:
By the time we reached bottom, we felt we’d literally traveled back in time. For despite the inch of floodwater covering the floor, the room was just as we had left it: Cecilia’s party had never been cleaned up. The paper tablecloth, spotted with mice droppings, still covered the card table. A brownish scum of punch lay caked in the cut-glass bowl, sprinkled with flies. The sherbet had melted long ago, but a ladle still protruded from the gummy silt, and cups, gray with dust and cobwebs, remained neatly stacked in front. A profusion of withered balloons hung from the ceiling on thin ribbons.
Here, the neighborhood boys include detailed imagery in their description of the decay of the rec room, which has not been cleaned since the night of the party a year earlier. They note that the room was “just as they left it” except for the obvious signs of neglect, including a “paper tablecloth, spotted with mice droppings” and “a brownish scum of punch,” which “lay caked in the cut-glass bowl, sprinkled with flies.” They see melted sherbet, dust and cobwebs, deflated balloons, and an unfinished game of dominos. With clear hyperbole, they felt as though they “literally traveled back in time.” The untouched rec room, still bearing the signs of the party, contributes to the sense of disorder and mystery surrounding the Lisbon household.
After the deaths of all the Lisbon sisters except Mary, Mr. and Mrs. Lisbon decide to sell the family home, hiring Mr. Hedlie, a school-teacher, to clean and remove the hoard of useless objects left in the home. Using a metaphor, the neighborhood boys compare the sudden rush of objects, from trash to personal mementoes, to a “tidal wave”:
But despite all this new evidence of the girls’ lives, and of the sudden drop-off of family togetherness (the photos virtually cease about the time Therese turned twelve), we learned little more about the girls than we knew already. It felt as though the house could keep disgorging debris forever, a tidal wave of unmatched slippers and dresses scarecrowed on hangers, and after sifting through it all we would still know nothing. There came an end to the outflow, however. Three days after Mr. Hedlie forged into the house, he came out, opening the front door for the first time [...]
For years, the neighborhood boys have treasured any small mementos associated with the Lisbon sisters, with whom they are obsessed. Now they feel overwhelmed by “all this new evidence of the girls’ lives” when Mr. Hedlie begins to remove the family’s personal effects, including family photos and clothing. They note that it “ felt as though the house could keep disgorging debris forever, a tidal wave of unmatched slippers and dresses.” Here, they somewhat hyperbolically imagine a flood surge of objects exiting the home, describing it as a “tidal wave.” This metaphor underscores just how much the Lisbon family had hoarded in its year of isolation and highlights the boys’ excitement, as they suddenly know far more about the minor details of the girls’ personal lives, information which they prize.