Smell Quotes - Page 8

There is something about poverty that smells like death. Dead dreams dropping off the heart like leaves in a dry season and rotting around the feet; impulses smothered too long in the fetid air of underground caves. The soul lives in sickly air. People can be slaveships in shoes.

Drew Friedman isn't just a brilliant artist. He takes you to a place. He takes you back in time. He makes you smell the stale cigarettes and cold brisket and you say, thank you for the pleasure.

I happen to be a pessimist, and maybe that's a good thing because I don't stop to smell the roses - which is not a good personal thing. I don't stop and enjoy those moments. Always on to the next and never in the moment.

Most of our childhood is stored not in photos, but in certain biscuits, lights of day, smells, textures of carpet.

Asking someone in advance not judge you, is like asking someone in advance not to smell you.

One of the many hazards of socializing with vampires. It makes you smell bad. A minor hazard, comparatively.

Do the small things of life with a relaxed awareness. When you are eating, eat totally - chew totally, taste totally, smell totally. Touch your bread, feel the texture. Smell the bread, smell the flavor. Chew it, let it dissolve into your being.

Right after I graduated high school, I joined a sushi restaurant to learn how to make Japanese food. And then spent seven years. Then that time - that's enough. Then sushi restaurant - butchering fish and they make your body smell like fishy.

Of all the unchristian beverages that ever passed my lips, Turkish coffee is the worst. The cup is small, it is smeared with grounds; the coffee is black, thick, unsavory of smell, and execrable in taste. The bottom of the cup has a muddy sediment in it half an inch deep. This goes down your throat, and portions of it lodge by the way, and produce a tickling aggravation that keeps you barking and coughing for an hour.

The bacillus of efficiency has also attacked football, and some dare to ask what's the point in playing well. I feel tempted to tell about the time they dared to ask Borges what is poetry for, to which he answered: 'What is a sunrise for? What are caresses for? What is the smell of coffee for?'

In a meadow full of flowers you cannot walk through and breathe those smells and see all those colors and remain angry. We have to support the beauty, the poetry of life.

I carry McCormick’s Pure Vanilla [in my purse] — the baking kind — and dab it on my neck… Men are attracted to the scent! One time, I put it on and four different guys were like, ‘You smell amazing!’

The sense of smell, like a faithful counsellor, foretells its character.

It’s a funny thing coming home. Nothing changes. Everything looks the same, feels the same, even smells the same. You realize what’s changed, is you.

Has anybody here ever been driving along in their car, smoking a cigarette, and you flick it out the window, and you drive for a few miles, and you start to smell smoke, and you turn around, and you look in the backseat, and grandma is playing with herself?

Hit a tripwire of smell and memories explode all at once. A complex vision leaps out of the undergrowth.

For something warm, try adding cinnamon sticks and nutmeg to apple cider simmering on the stove. You'll get the added benefit of making your home smell amazing.

A poor life is lived by any one who doesn't regularly take time out to stand and gaze, or sit and listen, or touch, or smell, or brood, without any further end in mind, simply for the satisfaction gotten from what is gazed at, listened to, touched, smelled, or brooded upon.

I like the way my own feet smell. I love to smell my sneakers when I take them off.

No perfume. Because I want to know how you smell - right off the bat. Don't mask it up. I need to know how you smell because I need to know how we connect. A smell is a big thing. Pheromones. Don't cover that.

You can't expect a man in a dung heap to smell sweet.

This perfume was not like any perfume known before. It was not a scent that made things smell better... it was completely new, capable of creating a whole world, a magical, rich world, and in an instant you forgot all the loathsomeness around you and felt so rich, so at ease, so free, so fine.

He possessed the power. He held it in his hand. A power stronger than the power of money or the power of terror or the power of death: the invincible power to command the love of mankind. There was only one thing that power could not do: it could not make him able to smell himself.

I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.

If you're going to have a character appear in a story long enough to sell a newspaper, he'd better be real enough that you can smell his breath.