Quotes About Sensory

The smell of his sweat came out of my pores.

She smells of her cooking and the perfume Eau d'Hadrien. My mother wore it, too. She used to cook, like Lili. Our house smelled of garlic and thyme instead of sadness.

Love is a soft thing. It smells like woodsmoke and sounds like rain. It tastes like sugared apples. It costs nothing to give yet is more precious than a sea of diamonds.

She could feel the logic of mechanical parts in her fingertips; this came so naturally that she could only think that other people didn't really try.

each time, the experience of music pouring directly against her eardrums—hers alone—is a shock that makes her eyes well up; the privacy of it, the way it transforms her surroundings into a golden montage

The air smelled of sweet ocean, a special thing. As a little girl she'd identified a half dozen ways the sea could smell, briny or fishy or sandy or green. A few times each summer, for reasons she couldn't explain, the breeze smelled of molasses, dark and sweet. ….

Shareability theory suggests that memory for never-discussed events is likely to be qualitatively different from memory for events that have been discussed. This difference will be greater when the sensory, continuous memories for the event were not recoded internally in anticipation of verbal sharing. Thus, if an event is experienced but never recoded into shareable formats, it is more likely to be stored in codes that are continuous, sensory, and dynamic.

My body recognized him before my mind did. His arms beat against the water in a brutally efficient butterfly stroke. And his back muscles…

Orgasmic garlic mashed potatoes

she swore she was breathing 1971 air—it smelled like dust and cigarettes and long-faded perfume. Like ghosts, if ghosts had a smell.

But I can tell you what Libby's eyes look like. They are like lying in the grass under the sky on a summer day. You're blinded by the sun, but you can feel the ground beneath you, so as much as you think you could go flying off, you know you won't. You're warmed from the inside and from the outside, and you can still feel that warmth on your skin when you walk away.

Sometimes you got to just feel, especially when it comes to music. Notes, scales, they just get in the way.

My body is like a single nerve ending from head to toe. Everything feels alive and more . My heart is opening, like the heart of Rappaccini's daughter, Beatrice, when she meets young Giovanni after he wanders into her garden. As I stand there, I can almost feel it unfold, petal by petal, beat by beat.

The stench of the manure that Jean was turning had cheered him up a little. He adored its promise of fertility and was sniffing it with the relish of a man smelling a randy woman.

Vous ne le voyez pas, lorsqu'il baisse lentement les paupières, comme pour éteindre ses yeux.

For one moment the morning took you far out into vague chill, but your body snatched you back into its cosiness, back to the waiting dogs on the hill top. They could not follow out there, their world was walled, their noses trailed the earth. What a dog cannot hear or smell he distrusts; unless objects are close or move he does not observe them. His nature is to confirm what he sees by his sense of sound or of smell.

Inebriate of Air — am I — And Debauchee of Dew — Reeling — thro endless summer days — From Inns of Molten Blue —

I see thee better in the dark I do not need a light.

The Dark—felt beautiful—

Bashful, sip thy jasmines, As the fainting bee

Counts his nectars — enters, And is lost in balms!

Songs and smells will bring you back to a moment in time more than anything else. It's amazing how much can be conjured with a few notes of a song or a solitary whiff of a room.

He was a super shiny boy and I liked the shape of him. Under the blanket. In the shower. I liked his shadow on the street and his imprint on the sofa. I hated the smell of hair gel on his head, but I loved it on the pillow. I love the smell of losing someone.

world was dripping down his eyeballs like wet oil paint down a canvas.