Quotes About Sensory

A blind man can see how much I love you

A man is as much affected pleasurably or painfully by the image of a thing past or future as by the image of a thing present.

... the mere thought of going near a man who is not mellowly pickled, and whose breath reeks of his native fleshy self, is squeamishly unpalatable to me.

Man must get away from verbal forms to attain the consciousness, that which is there to be perceived at hand.

I also like men who have hands with big masculine veins that you can squish and move.

I love the way men smell. I love the way they taste, their texture, the way they're built.

Until writing was invented, man lived in acoustic space: boundless, directionless, horizonless, in the dark of the mind, in the world of emotion.

God gave me some weird, beautiful scent that makes men and women go crazy. People compare it to Carvel. It is a whale of a smell.

Wine was created with man in mind, for his pleasure and relaxation, a balm to his good health.

But I like the feel of men on things, while they're alive. There's a feel of men about trucks, because they've been handled with men's hands, all of them.

A man of pleasure is a man of pains.

A man who means to think and write a great deal must, after six and twenty, learn to read with his fingers.

I love men - everything about them: the way they look, the way they smell, the way they feel. I love their minds.

He who only does not appreciate floral beauty is to be pitied like any other man who is born imperfect. It is a misfortune not unlike blindness.

Because no man can ever feel his own identity aright except his eyes be closed; as if darkness were indeed the proper element of our essences, though light be more congenial to our clayey part.

There is no better taste than this: someone else's laughter in your mouth.

Smell that? You smell that? Napalm, son. Nothing else in the world smells like that. I love the smell of napalm in the morning.

I stuck my head out the window this morning and spring kissed me bang in the face.

I was especially perceptive to all things beautiful that morning-raspberries in blue china bowls were enough to make the heart sing.

Marmalade in the morning has the same effect on taste buds that a cold shower has on the body.

It was as if a morning-glory had bloomed in her throat, and all that blue and small pollen ate into my heart, violent and religious

Nothing is quite as intoxicating as the smell of bacon frying in the morning, save perhaps the smell of coffee brewing.

I like a good beer buzz early in the morning.

Healthy feet can feel the very heart of Mother Earth.