Quotes About Sensations

I love getting soaked by the rain water," she said. "It's so clean and cool. Or do I sound like one of those schmucks?

My feelings can perhaps be imagined, but they can hardly be described.

My ears were full. Nothing more, not one more sound, could push into them and be registered.

The human mind appears suddenly and inexplicably out of some unknown and unimaginable void. It passes half its known life in the mental chaos of sleep. Even when awake it is a victim of its own ill-adjustment, of disease, of age, of external suggestion, of nature's compulsions; it doubts its own sensations and trusts only in instruments and averages.

lost herself in the sensations as she tumbled, not down, but up, up, up into the stars. She was floating in that rarified submissive space some called flying. She was dimly aware he was still striking her, but she no longer felt any pain. She drifted deep inside the silent perfection of her personal nirvana, her brain finally silent, joy permeating every fiber of her being…

No one had ever touched her like this. It was perfect, almost too perfect, but only almost. "Fuck

But now I want to say things that comfort me and that are a little free. For example: Thursdat is a day transparent as an insect's wing in the light. Just as Monday is a compact day. Ultimately, far beyond thought, I live from these ideas, if ideas is what they are. They are sensations that transform into ideas because I must use words. Even just using them mentally. The primary thought thinks with words.

I see that I've never told you how I listen to music—I gently rest my hand on the record player and my hand vibrates, sending waves through my whole body: and so I listen to the electricity of the vibrations, the last substratum of reality's realm, and the world trembles inside my hands.

I struggle to conquer more deeply my freedom of sensations and thoughts without any utilitarian meaning: I am alone, I and my freedom.

No one should adhere to the facts that contribute to narrative, the facts that create lives. To your mind, feelings are what create a person, something unwilling, something wild vandalizing whatever the skull holds. Those sensations form a someone. The headaches begin then. Don't wear sunglasses in the house, the world says, though they soothe, soothe sight, soothe you.

To your mind, feelings are what create a person, something unwilling, something wild vandalizing whatever the skull holds. Those sensations form a someone. The headaches begin then.

At the first kiss I felt Something melt inside me That hurt in an exquisite way All my longings, all my dreams and sweet anguish, All the secrets that slept deep within me came awake, Everything was transformed and enchanted And made sense.

I wanted love to grow back, like the grass when it's mown down. To grow differently, if need be, like children's teeth, like hair, like fingernails. To spring up at will, wild and untended. The chill of the sheets made me shudder, and so did the warmth that followed when I lay down.

Besides shooting out a big blank from your buttock, you can feel as if your root chakra leaked sweet hot mucus.

Now that I've started touching her, I can't seem to stop. Like somehow the language of my hands will tell her all the things I don't know how to say out loud.

when he kisses me, i feel as though i can finally breathe again

I have heard that for mortals,the feeling of falling in love is very like the feeling of fear

And when he kisses me, I feel as though I can finally breathe again.

Baths, she thought, were just like her relationships, all "ooh, ah" in the beginning and then suddenly, without warning, she had to get out, out, out!

She wondered if it was similar to how people felt when they first took antidepressants and they lost their pain, but everything else felt muted too: flatter, duller.

to return to that shadowy time of preexistence, she thought, when there was nothing particularly pressing to do except the occasional somersault, no thoughts, just interesting sensations of light and sound, and no loneliness, because those other two versions of you, who had been there forever, were right there beside you, not going anywhere.

I poured myself another glass of wine (white, now warm and disgusting, but I was in a masochistic mood)

found myself remembering the strong breadth of his chest, the narrow span of his hips. And his lovemaking…

Daniel reaches out and grabs my hand to steady me. His skin is warm and soft, and holding his hand sends an electric sensation up my right arm. He holds my hand firmly until I regain my balance, which takes me a heartbeat longer than it should have. "Thanks for keeping me from falling," I say. He smiles warmly. "Sometimes we just can't stop ourselves from falling, cher.