Quotes About Odor

My pants cut the cheese. Let one fly. Baked a batch of brownies.

Because the bulbs had so many important uses, tribes could be very protective of their allium fields. The Menominee Nation of the Great Lakes region laid claim to an extensive field of wild garlic, or ramps, that was located on the southern tip of Lake Michigan. The area was so rife with ramps that their odor perfumed the air for miles. The Menominee called their prized field Shikako, or "skunk place." The name lives on today in its anglicized form, Chicago.

She once told him about the mysterious trampled-down places found in fields, which the peasants superstitiously called werewolves' nests. Coming across one of these sites, she fell to her knees and buried her face in the flattened yellow grasses, hoping to inhale the odor of a werewolf, a csordásfarkas. As if his scent was a charm. She smelled nothing but hay burned by the afternoon sun.

A sensitive nose isn't always that great a gift. Plenty of smells are better unsmelt.

Some people hate the smell of hospitals. I hate the smell of jails and prisons, all the same: stale cigarette smoke, Pine-Sol, urine, sweat, and dust.

That tang of dogshit in darkness. That's your starry crown.

This, then, do you consider, and devise how both you yourselves may be saved and this land, and I be not brought into ill odor with the citizens; for I have not absolute sovereignty, as over barbarians; but if I do just things, I shall receive just things.

I didn't start sweating until I had children. That was one of the first things I realized when my daughter Violet was born - I started getting wicked BO. You know there's a difference between basketball BO and stress BO? This was definitely stress BO. Like, new dad BO.

Try an' try," he said, "but when it comes day's end, I can't wash the pig off me. And your mother never complains. Not once, in all these years, has she ever said that I smell strong. I said once to her that I was sorry." "What did Mama say?" "She said I smelled of honest work, and that there was no sorry to be said or heard.

She hated the smell of cigarette smoke

My own children grew up with a Newfoundland dog named TOsh. It is true that Newfoundlands smell of the sea. They also smell of slobber, dog food, and whatever they have rolled in most recently" (Lowry, 2016, p. 140).

I'd know that odor anywhere! The smell of graves opened! Old graves! Of bodies long dead!" Pausing

bad case of foot odor.

I said, 'Yes theres a lot to look a head to. Like croaking iron at Widders Dump. We do the croaking and they get the iron.' He said, 'Riddley theres other things to do as wel.' I said, 'Yes and they all smel of cow shit dont they?

Justo antes de desaparecer, las palabras adquieren un olor nauseabundo y pulposo, como manojos de hierba muerta que el viento arremolina, formando pequeñas esferas secas, y se derraman del cerebro y de las cuerdas vocales, bajando por las células sanguíneas y los nervios hasta los rincones más remotos del cuerpo.

Success is a great deodorant.

The Night-Apple Last night I dreamed of one I loved for seven long years, but I saw no face, only the familiar presence of the body: sweat skin eyes feces urine sperm saliva all one odor and mortal taste.

How she loved the smell of road: asphalt baking and soft in high July, dirt roads with their dust-and-pollen perfume in June, country lanes spicy with the odor of crushed leaves in sober October, the sand-and-salt smell of the highway, so like an estuary, in February.

The wind surged, and a burst of rain, barely a dozen drops, struck the blacktop ahead of me, producing the smell that is one of the finest odors in the world, the fragrance of hot asphalt in a summer shower.

armpits and private regions

Deodorants contain fragrances that mask the sweat smell as well as antibacterial agents that control the growth of bacteria on the skin. Antiperspirants, however, contain aluminum compounds that form insoluble gels on the skin and plug up pores, reducing the amount of sweat that makes it to the surface.

Audun followed the trail like a hound would a rabbit, with his nose quivering and all his attention focused on that one telling odor.

The fire. The odor of burning juniper is the sweetest fragrance on the face of the earth, in my honest judgment; I doubt if all the smoking censers of Dante's paradise could equal it. One breath of juniper smoke, like the perfume of sagebrush after rain, evokes in magical catalysis, like certain music, the space and light and clarity and piercing strangeness of the American West. Long may it burn.

even in the midst of grief the mind grapples with a hundred impressions: a pain below the heart, an odor on the breeze.