Quotes About Smell

I love going to London for a couple of days but I need to be in the country. I like the silence, the smell and the seasonal changes, especially in spring and summer. I really feel that I belong there.

At no other time (than autumn) does the earth let itself be inhaled in one smell, the ripe earth; in a smell that is in no way inferior to the smell of the sea, bitter where it borders on taste, and more honeysweet where you feel it touching the first sounds. Containing depth within itself, darkness, something of the grave almost.

Bees do have a smell, you know, and if they don't they should, for their feet are dusted with spices from a million flowers.

A book has got smell. A new book smells great. An old book smells even better. An old book smells like ancient Egypt.

There is no future for e-books, because they are not books. E-books smell like burned fuel.

And some days, he went on, were days of hearing every trump and trill of the universe. Some days were good for tasting and some for touching. And some days were good for all the senses at once. This day now, he nodded, smelled as if a great and nameless orchard had grown up overnight beyond the hills to fill the entire visible land with its warm freshness. The air felt like rain, but there were no clouds.

Isn't this a nice time of night to walk? I like to smell things and look at things, and sometimes stay up all night, walking, and watch the sun rise.

There are two perfumes to a book. If a book is new, it smells great. If a book is old, it smells even better. It smells like ancient Egypt. A book has got to smell. You have to hold it in your hands and pray to it. You put it in your pocket and you walk with it. And it stays with you forever.

Faber sniffed the book. "Do you know that books smell like nutmeg or some spice from a foreign land? I loved to smell them when I was a boy.

What did Time smell like? Like dust and clocks and people. And if you wondered what Time sounded like it sounded like water running in a dark cave and voices crying and dirt dropping down upon hollow box-lids, and rain.

What - the smell of kerosene? My wife always complains,' he laughed. 'You never was it off completely.

It was not burning; it was warming! He saw many hands held to its warmth, hands without arms, hidden in darkness. Above the hands, motionless faces that were only moved and tossed and flickered with firelight. He hadn't known fire could look this way. He had never thought in his life that it could give as well as take. Even its smell was different.

e-books smell like burned fuel

What - the smell of kerosene? My wife always complains,' he laughed. 'You never wash it off completely.

Bees do have a smell, you know, and if they don't they should, for their feet are dusted with spices from a million flowers.

They ran in urine smell of shadow, they ran in clean ice smell of moon.

This leaves a big question unanswered. Is it ever appropriate to store an optional in an instance field? Often it's a "bad smell": it suggests that perhaps you should have a subclass containing the optional fields. But sometimes it may be justified.

Books smell musty and rich. The knowledge gained from a computer is... It has no texture, no context. It's there and then it's gone. If it's to last, then the getting of knowledge should be tangible. It should be... smelly.

Era como un perro: dale la espalda, empieza a correr y se te hecha encima El miedo Huele. Los Depredadores lo notan.

And that smell of masculine indignation, rage like something singed.

Dorcas wasn't a fast walker. It was difficult for me to keep behind her. I tried to let others, joggers, and bicyclists, come between us. I followed her past a field where girls were playing soccer, and into the woods bordering Catamount Creek. The smell of pine needles underfoot was sharp, pungent. I seemed to know that I would always associate that smell with this afternoon, and with Dorcas.

Da ist auch noch ein anderer Geruch in der Luft, der Geruch von Feuern, die in der Ferne brennen, mit einem Hauch Zimt darin - so riecht das Abenteuer!

Bacon ~ Roald Dahl loved the smell of bacon sizzling in a frying pan. He even had his own bacon slicer, so that he could carve slices that were exactly right—as thin as tissue paper.

My sweat smells like peanut-butter.