Quotes About Sensory

And I also see how this body influences external images: it gives back movement to them.

'Tampopo's amazing. I think it's an absolutely fantastic movie, but I don't think it captures for me the meaning of food.

I'm having this conversation with you now. I'm talking, but I'm thinking, feeling, smelling, and moving. Yet I'm concentrating on what you're saying. So that means there's more things going on in the body than just the present thing that the person's got you doing.

People are multi-dimensional and crave a multi-sensory experience.

I don't make music for eyes. I make music for ears.

What I have to do as a musician is do everything that is not on the music.

She knew every scar, every tattoo. She had traced every one of those scars and tattoos with her tongue. With her fingertips. She'd memorized them until they were etched so deeply in her brain, she could have drawn them and gotten every detail perfect.

She hadn't expected the intamacy of his voice in her head. It had a smoothness to it that gave way now and then to gravel.

Shylah's soft laughter slid into Draden's mind. Warm like honey, filling him up when he hadn't known he was empty.

It was as if the very shadows connected them and she could feel his emotions.

She'd read a great deal about the blankets and knew the weight was supposed to help release serotonin by putting pressure on the sensory nerves in her muscles, joints and tendons, for a calming effect.

The moment she was close, he found he took her in with every breath he drew. The more he breathed, the more he was aware of her. Every cell in his body seemed focused on her. He knew when she took a breath. When she let it out. He breathed with her. In. Out. Together. As if they were already exchanging breath.

A.R.'s very apparatus that determines color was damaged, he didn't know what colors were (except in an abstract sense). Denying an objective sensory or motor deficit due to neurological damage is a form of agnosia termed anosognosia. It is really a deficit in self-awareness: not knowing what it is that one no longer knows.

Wassertorstrasse one week was much like another. Our leaky stuffy little attic smelt of cooking and bad drains. When the living-room stove was alight, we could hardly breathe; when

She could hear wisps of fog brushing against the buildings like wet velvet.

Tuck watched the sun bubble into the ocean. Columns of vertical cumulus clouds turned to cones of pink cotton candy, then as the sun became a red wafer on the horizon, they turned candy-apple red, with purple rays reaching out of them like searchlights. The water was neon over wet asphalt, blood-spattered gunmetal—colors from the cover of a detective novel where heroes drink hard and beauty is always treacherous.

The garlic bread lay there between them, steaming with implications. They, of course, must both eat it or neither could. Garlic bread meant garlic breath. There might be a kiss later, maybe more. There was just too damn much intimacy in garlic bread.

I'm more visual than verbal, really. The painting and so forth.

La febbre aveva catapultato Tucker Case in un sogno nel quale veniva gettato in mezzo a grandi onde elastiche di demoni dalle ali di pipistrello - sbriciolato, soffocato, morso e graffiato - e là, nel caos, vedeva con la coda dell'occhio un foglietto rosa di ammorbidente, a riprova del fatto che lo avevavno sbattuto nel cestello di una lavatrice infernale.

The floor went completely black when Mr. Amos pulled the door shut. I couldn't see it now, but I'd rememorized the exact shape the stain was in. The padlock snapped shut with the loudest click I'd ever heard.

I closed my eyes and took in a big snort of air. It was like someone took a old pot and poured about a hundred gallons of hot apple cider and a hundred gallons of hot coffee into it, then stirred eight or nine sweet potato pies, crusts and all, into that, then let six big steamy meat loafs float on top of all that, then threw in a couple of handfuls of smashed potatoes, then boiled the whole thing on high. This must be exactly how heaven smells!

That was the only part I didn't mind. I loved sticking my nose right on top of Joey's head and smelling all those nice things baked together.

What's the deal? To him, straight lines appear to be moving, because his retinas are not yet fixed.

Born blind, he could move in that handsome luminous space (yes, he said luminous) of his church, seeing, as he said, the sun with his skin