Quotes About Sensory

The voices and laughter and birds and wind and traffic combined and separated gently.

Soy tan feliz, que a veces paréceme que vivo suspendida en el aire, que mis pies no tocan la tierra, que huelo la eternidad y respiro el airecillo que sopla más allá del sol. No duermo. ¡Ni qué falta me hace dormir!

aceite juntó su pringosa suavidad con la acritud astringente del vino, y batidos y juntados sellaron el pacto, cuando los dedos gordezuelos de Nazaria vendaban aquella frente merecedora del yugo para tirar de un arado.

She could see and smell and touch and hear, but somehow she could hardly feel at

In the hallway of the house there was the usual smell he could never identify, brownish, exhausted, a breath out of childhood, if childhood was the word for that first decade of misery he had suffered through.

Ordinarily pleasure and pain are regarded as different from sensations.

There's something very relaxing about the aromatic scent of rosemary. I adore it.

I like songs that you can have both the physical release and an emotional release.

As it enters the ear, does it come in like broken glass or does it come in like honey?

I haven't got the normal protective whorls, so that touching anything, especially fabric, causes such irritation that I need long nails to protect them.

Andie was a physical girl, and that's not code for 'It's all about the sex'. She was a hugger, a toucher, she was prone to running her fingers through my hair or down my back in a friendly scratch. She got reassurance and comfort from touching. And yes, fine, she also liked sex.

I mean, if I were a guy, looking to pay a girl to wank me off, I wouldn't walk in the room and say, "My God, I smell hints of fresh strudel and nutmeg… quick, grab my dick!

she smoked so much she smelled like tobacco even after a shower, like if she slit her skin, menthol vapor would ooze out. He'd come to like it, it smelled like comfort and home to him, the way warm bread might to someone else.

That sweet muddy smell was purely animal, like the deepest corner of a bear's cave. It was almost foreign to me, this lived-in, overnight odor.

The unpainted walls of the long rectangular room were soaked with the smell of greasy chicken and warm, headless beer. The brown and pink faces floated above the trails of used cigarette smoke like bodiless carnival balloons.

The sounds provide as much variety as the sights—sirens, honking horns, squealing brakes, blaring stereos, leaf blowers, jackhammers, excited shouts. It's like a guy who's been fed bread and water his whole life suddenly stumbling into a humongous feast with every kind of food and drink imaginable.

Die Gedanken sind weder Dinge der Außenwelt noch Vorstellungen. Ein drittes Reich muß anerkannt werden. Was zu diesem gehört, stimmt mit den Vorstellungen darin überein, daß es nicht mit den Sinnen wahrgenommen werden kann, mit den Dingen aber darin, daß es keines Trägers bedarf, zu dessen Bewußtseinsinhalte es gehört.

We can love with our minds, but can we love only with our minds? Love extends itself all the time, so that we can love even with our senseless nails: we love even with our clothes, so that a sleeve can feel a sleeve.

I shut my eyes and she was again the same as she used to be: she was the hiss of steam, the clink of a cup, she was a certain hour of the night and the promise of rest.

Not all of it was done by soldiers, or by men. She'd shut her eyes and run her fingers over Jack's shoulders, down his spine, as a blind person might seek to recognise the shape of something. The shape—the ache in her own flesh—of her love for him.

It tasted as beer had always tasted the few times she'd drunk it, like brown autumn leaves.

Language and music changed with every step, and every restaurant spilled a different scent into the boiling air.

looking at him makes her feel like laughing all over - as if she could laugh not just with her mouth but with her eyes, her heart, her very limbs.

So let my hands and my face make their way in this world, let my hungry eyes see, my tongue taste.