Quotes About Sensations

The world is a construct of our sensations, perceptions, memories. It is convenient to regard it as existing objectively on its own. But it certainly does not become manifest by its mere existence.

She knew it was going to happen, was ready for it, but when he pulled her to his lips, nothing could have prepared her for the heavy rush of desire that slammed through her.

Human milk is like ice cream, penicillin, and the drug ecstasy all wrapped up in two pretty packages.

but the rest of the evening is nothing but the trembling edges of something I am so tired of feeling and I do not want to feel anymore.

And because circumstances rarely match, and one afternoon can be a patchwork of both joy and horror, the taste of the soup washed through me

Most of our childhood is stored not in photos, but in certain biscuits, lights of day, smells, textures of carpet.

Blind impatience is equally evident in the fruit section. Our ancestors might have delighted in the occasional handful of berries found on the underside of a bush in late summer, viewing it as a sign of the unexpected munificence of a divine creator, but we became modern when we gave up on awaiting sporadic gifts from above and sought to render any pleasing sensation immediately and repeatedly available.

Our bodies smell, ache, sag, pulse, throb and age. They force us to fart and burp, and to abandon sensible plans in order to lie in bed with people, sweating and letting out intense sounds reminiscent of coyotes calling out to one another across the barren wastes of the American deserts. Our bodies hold our minds hostage to their whims and rhythms.

Sexiness might at first appear to be a merely physiological phenomenon, the result of awakened hormones and stimulated nerve endings. But in truth it is not so much about sensations as it is about ideas—foremost among them the idea of acceptance and the promise of an end to loneliness and shame.

Without memory, each night is the first night, each morning is the first morning, each kiss and touch are the first.

The air grows too warm, too quickly. I want very much for a beautiful woman to hand me a glass of very cold beer. All the atoms in the test chamber are screaming at once. The light. . . the light is taking me to pieces.

our breath resides within our flesh, our mind resides within our breath, our concepts reside within our mind and our emotions reside within our concepts. We can only see the flesh and breath. We can sense the emotions by the way they are expressed through the body and the breath. Sensations received by the mind are filtered by concepts to create emotions. Emotions

Amazing how being bathed in arterial blood can wash out any lingering romantic disappointments.

When I go biking, I repeat a mantra of the day's sensations: bright sun, blue sky, warm breeze, blue jay's call, ice melting and so on. This helps me transcend the traffic, ignore the clamorings of work, leave all the mind theaters behind and focus on nature instead. I still must abide by the rules of the road, of biking, of gravity. But I am mentally far away from civilization. The world is breaking someone else's heart.

El animal olía a cieno, a mucus, a hojas en descomposición, a algas machacadas, a madera mohosa, a tierra húmeda, el mismo olor sordo, inferior, un poco grasiento, que traía Katsuro cuando volvía del río; y, bajo los pechos de Miyuki, el corazón de la carpa latía con el mismo compás tranquilo, muy majestuoso sin lugar a dudas, que el de Katsuro algunas mañanas, inmediatamente después de haberse acostado con su mujer:

Falling and flying are near identical sensations, in all but one final detail.

The body knows things the thinking mind can only imagine.

Life is a series of sensations connected to different states of consciousness

You spend your whole life trapped inside your body. Everything you know about the world comes to you through your body.

Feeling good and feeling bad are not necessarily opposites. Both at least involve feelings. Any feeling is a reminder of life. The worst 'feeling' evidently is non-feeling.

But he's not going anywhere, and then his hands find mine again. Instead of snatching it back, I make myself stand here too, and actually it's nice. The electric currents are racing. My body is humming. The breeze is blowing, rustling the leaves on the trees. It's almost like music. We stand side by side, looking out and up and around.

It's like my brain is firing so fast that it can't keep up with itself. Words. Colors. Sounds. Sometimes everything else fades into the background and all I'm left with is sound. I can hear everything, but not just hear it—I can feel it too. But then it can come on all at once—the sounds turn into light, and the light goes too bright, and it's like it's slicing me in two

the thing about being Awake is that everything in you is alive and aching and making up for lost time.

I don't want to forget any of this. The way he's looking at me at this very moment. How, when he kisses me, I still get shivers down my back, every time. I want to hold on to everything so tight.