Quotes About Senses

I still don't know how to work out a poem. A poem needs understanding through the senses. The point of diving into a lake is not immediately to swim to the shore, but to be in the lake, to luxuriate in the sensation of water. You do not work the lake out, it is an experience beyond thought. Poetry soothes and emboldens the soul to accept the mystery.

My mind has been the most discontented and restless one that ever was put into a body too small for it.... I never felt my mind repose upon anything with complete and undistracted enjoyment- upon no person but you. When you are in the room my thoughts never fly out of window: you always concentrate my whole senses

The open sky sits upon our senses like a sapphire crown - the Air is our robe of state - the Earth is our throne, and the Sea a mighty minstrel playing before it.

I never felt my Mind repose upon anything with complete and undistracted enjoyment - upon no person but you. When you are in the room my thoughts never fly out of window: you always concentrate my whole senses.

Even if you did not love me I could not help an entire devotion to you: how much more deeply then must I feel for you knowing you love me. My Mind has been the most discontented and restless one that ever was put into a body too small for it. I never felt my Mind repose upon anything with complete and undistracted enjoyment -- upon no person but you. When you are in the room my thoughts never fly out of window: you always concentrate my whole senses.

What we're seeking to do is internalize perception. Perception is very much involved with the senses and the mental processes and the emotional processes.

A real theatrical experience shakes the calm of the senses, liberates the compressed unconscious and drives towards a kind of potential revolt . . .

The only intuitive interface is the nipple. Everything else is learned.

The objective world is the order of nature, thinking or reflection follows the suggestions of sense experience, and words are the servomechanisms of reflection.

The sense organs experience the external light, sound, etc. with difficulty; the different sense organs only have a so-called specific receptivity for particular stimuli.

The senses collect the surface facts of matter... It was sensation; when memory came, it was experience; when mind acted, it was knowledge; when mind acted on it as knowledge, it was thought.

You take the senses away, and there is no consciousness. Consciousness comes from experience.

Faith will tell us Christ is present, When our human senses fail.

Faith is a reality and it reaches out to facts that are more solid, more real, more substantial, and more eternal than anything registered by our physical senses.

Faith never requires us to crucify our minds or deny our senses.

Faith declares what the senses do not see but not the contrary of what they see.

Since the first day I met you,that first glance at your eyes,the first time you told me you loved me, my life was changed forever, your love made me who I am today,your presence in my life inspires me to be better every day, I love you with all my senses.

Confused by the mind and diffused by the senses, we seek Pleasure and lose the great Treasure called Life.

The world is continuously discontinuous. It is continuous for intuition and thinking; discontinuous for reason and observation. The human senses break it down but the unconvinced mind unites it.

I could recognize him by touch alone, smell, I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.

I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world

Je le reconnaîtrais rien qu'au toucher, ou à son odeur, je le reconnaîtrais si j'étais aveugle, aux seuls bruits de sa respiration et de ses pas martelant le sol. Je le reconnaîtrais dans la mort, à la fin du monde.

could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.

In gloomy moments, I think we are allowed to stay alive here but not to live, much less to enjoy ourselves or take pleasure in what we see when we look out of our windows or walk around our streets. If we have the fortitude to get up out of bed in the morning and get going to face the day, we should also have the freedom to rejoice, and I think the freedom to rejoice is being denied us when our senses are dulled at every turn by streets that are inimical when they are not simply sad.