Quotes About Senses

When a kid says "smell my hand," it almost never smells like cinnamon.

To be ignorant of evils to come, and forgetful of evils past, is a merciful provision in nature, whereby we digest the mixture of our few and evil days, and our delivered senses not relapsing into cutting remembrances, our sorrows are not kept raw by the edge of repetitions.

How good is man's life, the mere living! How fit to employ All the heart and the soul and the senses Forever in joy!

All life is rhythmic. The rhythms of the natural world are embedded in our biological systems. This begins in the womb, when the mother's beating heart creates rhythmic sound, pressure, and vibrations that are sensed by the developing fetus and provide constant rhythmic input to the organizing brain.

All experience is processed from the bottom up, meaning, to get to the top, "smart" part of our brain, we have to go through the lower, not-so-smart part. This sequential processing means that the most primitive, reactive part of our brain is the first part to interpret and act on the information coming in from our senses. Bottom line: Our brain is organized to act and feel before we think.

to the top, "smart" part of our brain, we have to go through the lower, not-so-smart part. This sequential processing means that the most primitive, reactive part of our brain is the first part to interpret and act on the information coming in from our senses. Bottom line: Our brain is organized to act and feel before we think.

It is part of my existence to be the parasite of metaphors, so easily am I carried away by the first simile that comes along. Having been carried away, I have to find my difficult way back, and slowly return to my senses.

senses could be dulled, and you might withdraw into yourself, feeling numb and empty.

Your body is spewing off millions of data points a second.

Music evokes a lot of different emotions and triggers different senses.

I use these senses - touch, sight, feel and smell - as triggers that invite readers or propel them into the scene. The trick is not to make it obvious. I've written an entire chapter about this in my book, 'The Successful Novelist.' I've lectured about it extensively, but have yet to see many people pick up on it.

Kissing could have begun as a way of sniffing out who's who. From a whiff to a kiss was just a short trip across the face.

Grief, I swear to God, doesn't live in the heart. It lives in the senses. And sometimes, all I want to do is cut off my nose so I can't smell her, hack my fingers off at the joint.

Poor mind, from the senses you take your arguments, and then want to defeat them? Your victory is your defeat.

The reason why there's such a rigid repression of the mentally ill is the psyche of humanity senses something. It senses that it doesn't want to deal with the unknown.

The cruel bitterness of the drink drew claws down Khaster's throat. He craved that feeling. It was as if a creature were captive in his brain, punching his skull, trying to get out. But he did not fall as his companion had suggested. The Red Witch cleared his sight. Every sense felt honed, alert, precise.

Othman watched Owen through slitted eyes, waiting for him to manifest some physical effect from the haoma that Emma had put in his coffee. Lily was chattering brightly, but her words were nothing more than a chirruping nonsense that flapped around Othman's senses. He wanted Owen. He needed him.

For several minutes, I leaned upon the rail, gazing out across the city of Sacramente, breathing in its riot of scents; the hot flesh-smell beneath me, the flower haze above.

By closing your eyes and forming images of your choice, you begin to control your imagination. Like dreaming, when you visualize you should be able to use all of your senses to experience what you 'see around you.

Babylon might act as a narcotic upon the senses, lulling Melandra into a dreamy state of unreality, but bitterness still burned within her.

A quivering sensation of power, of flame. Othman sucked the impression into his brain, savoured it. Daniel must not pick this up. Not yet. It was simple to exude a blocking stream, which, invisibly, wrapped as a caul around Daniel's senses. He was so young, so untrained. He could not fight it. Under Othman's influence, he abandoned the spirtual aspects of what he was doing and gave himself to lust.

I want to be able to recognise death, to hear her coming, to see her, to touch her, smell her and taste her; to undergo the assault on all of my senses and, in my last moments, to understand her as completely as is humanly possible.

Soldiers of the American Revolution fought that 18th century war with heavy muskets. In the early 20th century, we kids fought it every Fourth of July not only with exploding powder and shimmering flares, but with all of our senses.

Often in normal life I'm just constricted to what I see, maybe, and hear. But when I climb and when I'm out in the wild, other senses come to me and Delicate Arch was a free solo climb, which means I didn't have any protection and often, when I put myself in these situations, it brings out this heightened awareness which I crave so much.