Quotes About Sensory

Humans and augmented humans shift their weight when they stand, they react to sudden sounds and bright lights, they scratch themselves, they adjust their hair, they look in their pockets or bags to check for things that they already know are in there.

The second difference between the introvert and the extrovert is how they experience external stimulation. Extroverts like to experience a lot, and introverts like to know a lot about what they experience.

The sensory branding of the Singapore Girl reached its zenith by the end of the 1990s, when Singapore Airlines introduced Stefan Floridian Waters.

South America is known as a "high contact" culture, meaning that residents stand closer to one another, touch one another more and are accustomed to more sensory stimulation than residents in, say, northern Europe, with Australians and North Americans believed to be more moderate in their cultural contact level.

Had I truly thought I would not die when he kissed me? But I did. For a moment the breath and life went out of me and there was no time and no tomorrow but only my lips against his.

The hope of yellow must be nothing to the taste of it, she thought.

Here's how the Ritz looks at touchpoints, as written in the company's credo: "The Ritz-Carlton experience enlivens the senses, instills well-being, and fulfills even the unexpressed wishes and needs of our guests.

We lie in each other's arms eyes shut and fingers open and all the colors of the world pass through our bodies like strings of fire.

I think I would rather possess eyes that know no sight, ears that know no sound, hands that know no touch than a heart that knows no love.

Both hands... Now use both hands. Oh no, don't close your eyes.

Love is like a beautiful flower which I may not touch, but whose fragrance makes the garden a place of delight just the same

Love wouldn't be blind if the Braille weren't so damned much fun

Love cannot express the idea of music, while music may give an idea of love

Snow. I wondered what it felt like. Aunt Bernette said it could be both soft and hard, cold and hot. It stung and burned when the wind pelted it through the air, and it was a gentle cold feather when it drifted down in lazy circles from the sky. I couldn't imagine it being so many things, and I wondered if she had taken license with her story as Father always claimed. I couldn't stop thinking of it. Snow.

I sat there for minutes, seasons, years, the wind becoming winter against my skin, the day becoming night, then blinding again, harsh with detail. I closed my eyes, but the details still shone bright and demanding behind my lids, replacing a lifetime of memories with a single bloody image of Walther, and then, mercifully, the image faded, everything faded, leaving only dull, numbing gray.

Women remember. Our bodies remember. Every part of us remembers that has ever happened. Every touch, every feel, everything is there in our skin, ready to be awakened, revived.

I look out into the dark, which is made of velvet so soft and heavy you could gather it up in your hands if you weren't locked in.

I do not remember very many things from the inside out. I do not remember what it felt like to touch things, or how bathwater traveled over my skin. I did not like to be touched, but it was a strange dislike. I did not like to be touched because I craved it too much. I wanted to be held very tight so I would not break. Even now, when people lean down to touch me, or hug me, or put a hand on my shoulder, I hold my breath. I turn my face. I want to cry.

What if we have become virtually addicted to the heightened sensory stimulation that composes much of our daily lives and cannot stop ourselves from pursuing it incessantly, as Judith Shulevitz suggests in6 The Sabbath World: Glimpses of a Different Order of Time and as technology experts in "persuasion design" principles know very well?

Taste like pillows.

Human beings are also vibrating, and each individual vibrates at a unique frequency. Each one of us has the sensory skills necessary to feel the vibrations of others.

A? vrea s? m? preschimb într-un Camel light. S? m? r?suceasc? ea pe degete, s? ating cerul gurii ei împ?r?te?ti, s? devin un fuior de fum sub?ire ?i s? m? rostogolesc pe esofag, s? ling partea l?untric? a sânilor ?i, în cele din urm?, s? prind r?d?cini în pl?mânii ei ca o floare neagr? de catran.

Not knowing The name of the tree, I stood in the flood Of its sweet smell.

We kissed and I closed my eyes and inhaled lavender and her, and I felt so terrified and so in love that I realised they - the terror, the love - were one in the same thing.