Quotes About Sensory

My nose tried to jump off my face, overwhelmed by the foulest odor it had ever encountered. The

The moon people do not eat by swallowing food but by smelling it. Their money is poetry - actual poems, written out on pieces of paper whose value is determined by the worth of the poem itself.

But anyone who'd ever been to Tito's Tacos and tasted a warm cupful of the greasy, creamy, refried frijole slop covered in a solid half-inch of melted cheddar cheese knew the bean had already reached genetic perfection.

Philosophers have often looked for the defining feature of humans — language, rationality, culture, and so on. I'd stick with this: Man is the only animal that likes Tabasco sauce.

Gopnik compares baby consciousness to that of an adult dumped into the middle of a foreign city, totally overwhelmed, constantly turning to see new things, struggling to make sense of it all. Things are even worse for a baby, actually, because even the most stressed-out adult can choose to think of something else: we can look forward to getting back to the hotel; imagine how we would describe our trip to friends; fantasize, daydream, or pray. The baby just is, trapped in the here and now.

Let's go back to the question of what people want and consider an answer that, whatever else one might say about it, is at least pretty clear. It's pleasure. The Greek term for pleasure is h?don?, which is why those who argue for the centrality of pleasure are called hedonists.

All orbits are free. Several earths I lob to you while going blind— the two white ones you keep, one in each hand.

Think of how strange the colours and sights of the world would be for a blind man abruptly made to see or a man deaf from birth hearing the playing of a hundred flutes

We are witnessing the uglification of the world, the Globalist goal is to make the whole planet identical in its atomizing dreariness by dulling our senses they hope to dull our very life essence. This is all inherently totalitarian, but in an Age of Ugliness a work of beauty is an act of defiance.

One eye sees, the other feels.

Taste is made of a thousand distastes

The hour of infused tea and closed books; the sweetness of feeling the evening's end.

Reading music is like listening to flowers. I don't understand the concept.

Her words smelled of bonfires. They felt like dirt, filling his mouth. They tasted like Halloween. A.C. Wise For the Removal of Unwanted Guests

Before I was even halfway up the steep ridge, I heard the ngoma. Drums set the air vibrating and rang through the ground under my feet as if something were tunnelling powerfully in every direction at once.

and an almond-scented blancmange custard that tasted like clouds.

On the street, it was dark in the way only Africa can be.

I had never spent so much time by the sea, and hated the way the air thickened with salt and sat on my skin and made me always long for a bath. I was far more comfortable with dust.

I close my eyes an lean into Ernest, smelling bourbon and soap, tobacco and damp cotton - and everything about this moment is so sharp and lovely, I do something completely out of character and just let myself have it.

Dust billowed around us, creeping under our loose-tied handkerchiefs and into our noses and mouths. It was fine and silty, red as ochre or the brush-tailed fox,

Oh." I leaned back in his arms and felt my head go woozy. —

I can't see him through the smoke but recognize the solid, spreading warmth of his skin and his smell, which has always been exactly like this, the scent of trees becoming wise.

Arabella dangled her legs out of the bedroom window and closed her eyes. She felt a butterfly brush against her knee, rubbed her skin against the mortar and bricks, drank in the warmth of the morning sunshine on her face, her arms, her feet.

The apple trees were in full bloom, the scent enveloping the party in a heady, almost palpable mist, and pale petals rocked on the glittering surface of the water and lay in white mats against the banks.