Quotes About Senses

I am all for the iPad, but trust me - smelling it will get you nowhere.

I'm excited about Thanksgiving. It's my favorite holiday. It's the feast of a thousand senses, so just eat, eat, eat, eat.

Not only has the eyes taken over, but we have anaesthetised the ears through all the muzak that we hear all the time.

Listen to your broccoli and it will tell you how to eat it.

I am going to try to pay attention to the spring. I am going to look around at all the flowers, and look up at the hectic trees. I am going to close my eyes and listen.

the dead lose every sense except hearing.

If the mind can find no meaning, then the senses give it. Live for this, wretched being that you are.

He was too fascinated with this ghost of Magnus. So many questions came to his mind: "Can you eat, can you drink, can you make love, can you taste?" "No," said Magnus, "but I can see very well, and I can feel hot and cold in a pleasurable way, and I have a sense of being here, being alive, occupying this space, being tangible, and having a tempo in time.…

Something happens to your senses when you look on Louis. Behold Louis...

And we do breathe. We breathe and we taste and we smell and we feel and we thirst.

She stood listening to the blood inside her, and marveling in a crazed, despairing way that it could still refresh her and strengthen her, even now. Sad, grief-stricken, she looked at the lovely stark wilderness encircling the temple, she looked up at the loose and billowing clouds. How the blood gave her courage, how it gave her a momentary belief in the sheer rightness of the universe?fruits of a ghastly, unforgivable act. If the mind can find no meaning, then the senses give it.

the mind can find no meaning, then the senses give it. Live for this, wretched being that you are.

I never knew what life was until it ran out in a red gush over my lips, my hands!

The written word is weak. Many people prefer life to it. Life gets your blood going, & it smells good. Writing is mere writing, literature is mere. It appeals only to the subtlest senses—the imagination's vision, & the imagination's hearing—& the moral sense, & the intellect. This writing that you do, that so thrills you, that so rocks & exhilarates you, as if you were dancing next to the band, is barely audible to anyone else.

It's about waking up. A child wakes up over and over again, and notices that she's living. She dreams along, loving the exuberant life of the senses, in love with beauty and power, oblivious to herself -- and then suddenly, bingo, she wakes up and feels herself alive. She notices her own awareness. And she notices that she is set down here, mysteriously, in a going world.

There is no shortage of good days. It is good lives that are hard to come by. A life of good days lived in the senses is not enough. The life of sensation is the life of greed; it requires more and more. The life of the spirit requires less and less; time is ample and its passage sweet. Who would call a day spent reading a good day? But a life spent reading—that is a good life.

Hah. In that wise, we had best put speculation aside, and consider the evidence of our senses.

Our senses are often the gateway to our stories.

Sentience without senses. Blind, deaf, nerveless, moveless. Some irritability, response to touch. Response to sun, to light, to water, and chemicals in the earth around the roots. Nothing comprehensible to an animal mind. Presence without mind. Awareness of being, without object or subject. Nirvana. (p. 517)

Drinking would shut down my seeing and my hearing and my feeling,' she used to say. 'Why would I want to be in the world if I couldn't touch the world with all of my senses intact?

I know only, like, five Indians in our whole tribe who have never drunk alcohol. And my grandmother was one of them. Drinking would shut down my seeing and my hearing and my feeling, she used to say. Why would I want to be in the world if I couldn't touch the world with all of my senses intact? (158)

U?ng r??u s? Ä'óng l?i t?m nhìn, kh? n?ng nghe và c?m xúc c?a bà, bà v?n hay nói v?y. T?i sao bà l?i mu?n s?ng ? trên ??i này n?u không th? ch?m vào th? giá»›i b?ng t?t c? các giác quan còn nguyên v?n c?a bà?.

If your life is based around your being comfortable, you're not very comfortable. You suffer quite a bit - becuase in the realm of the senses there is not only pleasure, but there is pain.

I see several animals that live so entire and perfect a life, some without sight, others without hearing: who knows whether to us also one, two, or three, or many other senses, may not be wanting?