Quotes About Sensory

Love cannot be described. It must be tasted.

There is a love of wood, as of other things that do not answer to our touch.

Love was more than blind. It was deaf and dumb, too. It was catatonic. It was vegetative.

Woke up, it was a Chelsea morning, and the first thing that I knew There was milk and toast and honey and a bowl of oranges, too And the sun poured in like butterscotch and stuck to all my senses Oh, won't you stay We'll put on the day And we'll talk in present tenses

She stooped to pick a wild pink rose, avoiding the tiny spines that slivered like unseen glass hairs onto one's fingers. There was little scent, but the creamy softness of the petals like the insides of a dog's ear more than made up for it. She placed one on her tongue, and imagined she could taste the hills, the bittersweet tang of life.

you whip out your tube of BoomBoom, unscrew the cap, take a deep, prodigious blast up each nostril so you can literally feel the rush of the mint and citrus bathing your olfactory nerves, giving you that pleasant, invigorating burn.

O sol deixava cair sobre as ruas uma claridade macia, que não queimava, mas cujo calor acariciava como a mão de uma mulher.

when will we open them again our eyes, this must all be from the world of shut eyes, one's temples feel the cold, maybe one is inside a seashell, one is what another force is hearing—how lovely, we are being handed over to another force, listen, put this to your ear—the last river we know loses its form, widens, as if a foot were lifted from the dancefloor but not put down again, ever…

I seek new perfumes, ampler blossoms, untried pleasures.

The hustle and bustle everywhere, so many carriages and cabs at a dash, Europeans, Chinese, and natives, each dressed after their own fashion, fruit pedlars, messengers, porters stripped to the waist, foodshops, inns, restaurants, shops, carts pulled by philosophical carabaos, the noise, the incessant movement, the sun itself, a certain smell, the riot of colours—he had almost forgotten what Manila was like.

A man that has a taste of music, painting, or architecture, is like one that has another sense, when compared with such as have no relish of those arts.

My task… to make you hear, to make you feel—it is, before all, to make you see. That—and no more, and it is everything.

Cars whooshed by. Somewhere nearby a dog was barking. A couple of girls in halter tops were smoking, which they couldn't do inside the Anchor. A gang of overgrown frat boys were jeering, and one of them was pissing in the alley next to the bar. The restrooms there were so malodorous that no one ever used them more than once.

Time wasn't measured in the ordinary way for him, or for Hippolyte. Marcel had an animal's ability to relax and think with his body.

A major way that threats change arousal is via outputs of the CeA to neuromodulatory systems (Figure 8.7).73 (By the way, the amygdala also processes appetitive stimuli and the CeA also activates neuromodulatory systems in their presence74). The consequence of CeA activation of neuromodulatory systems is an increase in attention and vigilance, which may be achieved by lowering the threshold to detect sensory stimuli.

Mieg? groz?ties vi?am blakus. Zin?t, ka vi?š ir tepat. V?rieša siltais arom?ts, vi?a elpas ritms, m?ness, kura gaism? ozola zari met ?nas.

Rolling in a patch of wild garlic

he pictured the soft sparkle in her pale green eyes when she had licked his stinging paws, and his fur began to prickle with a sensation he had not felt before.

The Ontologically Anthropocentric Sensory Immersive Simulation was a big place.

OASIS. The Ontologically Anthropocentric Sensory Immersive Simulation

All sensory input received by their brain is digitized and stored as a .oni (dot-oh-en-eye) file on an external data drive attached to their headset.

My haptic suit did its best to simulate the sensation of torrents of falling water striking my body, but it felt more like someone pounding on my head, shoulders, and back with a bundle of sticks.

The hooting of the owl with its tender wing is more familiar to me than the crowing of the cock. I prefer the strings to the woodwinds. Intermission: that is the darkness. The light feels like a vague scratching; it is malaise rather than pain. I am glad to sink back into darkness.

Il volersi bene si costruisce. Ma l'amore quello vero, no. L'amore lo senti immediato, non ha tempo. É dire "ti sento". Un contatto di pelle, un abbraccio, un bacio. Mantenersi, il mio verbo preferito, tenersi per mano. Ti può bastare per la vita intera, un attimo, un incontro. Rinunciarvi è folle,sempre e comunque.