Smell Quotes - Page 37

A pause came between them, and it was so full of Akiva that Karou imagined she could smell him.

I don't think that women need to smell interesting.

When you're creating a fragrance, you're always thinking about what you want that first smell to be, that first reaction.

Touching his hair, she leaned hesitantly forward, and he folded his arms around her, sinking into sensation again as they kissed--the slight weight of her on his lap, the smell of her. He glided his hands up the warm dip of her spine, felt her shiver and press closer. He could never get enough of this. Never.

I've always hated the big United Way drive at work. Not because of the United Way. Great organization. Because of the smell of solicitation in the air, and because we are usually in the middle of it.

Coffee. I could smell coffee. Coffee would make everything better.

It was starting to smell really good in here. And if I liked what it smelled like, then they were liking what they were smelling, and ah…that would be me.

I smell pancakes," Al said as he jauntily smacked Pierce's hat back on the witch's head. "Did the runt make you breakfast?" Al said, leaning over the stove. "Quickest way to a woman's crotch is through her gullet, eh?" he said, leering at Pierce, who was now rinsing out the percolator. "Is it working? I'd be curious to know. I'd buy her a cake or something.

I pissed on my diploma, smell the aroma.

When the guys come back in from the spacewalk, there really is a distinct smell of space; it's something I will never forget.

Organismic awareness is awareness of the Present only - you can't taste the past, smell the past, see the past, touch the past, or hear the past. Neither can you taste, smell, see, touch or hear the future. In other words, organismic consciousness is properly timeless, and being timeless, it is essentially spaceless.

I love a nicely groomed guy who smells good. That's important.

So do all animals react that way to you? I know you said rats steer clear." "Most do. They see a human, but they smell someting else. It confuses them. Canines are the worst, though." He paused. "No, cats are the worst. I really don't like cats." I laughed.

So I was right, wasn't I? It's still you, even in wolf form.' He grunted. No sudden uncontrollable urges to go kill something?' He rolled his eyes. Hey, you're the one who was worried.' I paused. 'And I don't smell like dinner, right?' I got a real look for that one. Just covering all the bases.

Like, the smells and the sights and the sounds. As an artist, you want to sort of be able to engage that and get that down in some way. This is - this is a type of familiarity but a type of radical difference at the same time.

I have a soft spot for women, I'm not afraid of it, some women walk into the room, and they're so beautiful and you're like, 'I wanna smell you' you know?

It definitely happens more often than you would think when someone comes up and you're like: "He's really attractive and seems really nice," and it just doesn't work if he smells bad.

Round and round the questions flew, until finally I found myself standing at the open door of a bookshop. It’s natural in times of great perplexity, I think, to seek out the familiar, and the high shelves and long rows of neatly lined-up spines were immensely reassuring. Amid the smell of ink and binding, the dusty motes in beams of strained sunlight, the embrace of warm, tranquil air, I felt that I could breathe more easily.

I can smell you, Ms. Lane," he said, even more softly. "The only blood on you is from your veins, not your womb." My head whipped to the left and I stared at him. Ok, that was one of the more disturbing things he'd ever said to me.

The sun's nearly level with the horizon, right behind his head, making this weird halo effect around his face—as if! I'm surprised he doesn't smell like brimstone. He probably has a red pitchfork and hides horns under his hair.

It smelled like aging wood and creosote, plastic book covers, and old paper. Old paper, which my mom used to say was the smell of time itself.

The smell of profit is clean and sweet, whatever the source.

The smell of money is good, come whence it may. [Alluding to Vespasian's tax on ordure.]

Any woman I know can smell a boyfriend a mile away. Women are intuitive, they know when a guy is interested but he’s not going to be there for her in that boyfriend-y way.

When I was still quite young I had a complete presentiment of life. It was like the nauseating smell of cooking escaping from a ventilator: you don't have to have eaten it to know that it would make you throw up.