Quotes About Smell

What do you know about women?" They smell nice, they don't like to be told they can't do something, and, when they're naked, they hold some sort of mystical power that overrides our brains and makes us do and say things that would normally be inconceivable.

What is that *smell*?" Eliot shook his head. "I keep telling you, it's fresh air.

A gut-string classical Spanish guitar, a sweet, lovely little lady. The smell of it. Even now, to open a guitar case, when it's an old wooden guitar, I could crawl in and close the lid.

The smell of that buttered toast simply spoke to Toad, and with no uncertain voice; talked of warm kitchens, of breakfasts on bright frosty mornings, of cozy parlour firesides on winter evenings, when one's ramble was over and slippered feet were propped on the fender; of the purring of contented cats, and the twitter of sleepy canaries.

On the other hand, without excess mental baggage, playing music produces a feeling more exquisite than the sweetest nectar this world has to offer. It is the sound, smell and taste of grace.

You know, Mr. Moore, you wouldn't figure a stinkhole this city to have so many start over it. Seems like the smell'd be enough to drive 'em away...

The fat woman came and offered us Turkish cigarettes and little red cubes of sweet stuff that smelled like soap and tasted like hell

Fresh flowers bloomed from vases, sweetly scenting the air. Again, he had no idea. Fine. He'd requested those. That shit smelled good.

What's that smell?" I froze. What? Did I really smell so distasteful he had only to lean in my direction to catch a putrid whiff of me? I stayed the urge to break his freaking nose for pointing out my stinkiness. He sniffed again. "I can't place it." "How bad is it?" I asked, my cheeks heating. "It's good. Some kind of flower." My first thought: Hurray! I don't stink. My second: Ohmygod!

The air smelled like testosterone and manflesh again. (That was a thing, right?)

He had a bleeding cut on his leg and he smelled like shit. Her nose wrinkled. "Step in something?" she asked innocently. "That I did not mind." He took a menacing step toward her. "What I did mind was being hit by a cab, then landing on the lap of a naked man. With an erection, Anya. He had an erection.

I'm starting to associate the smell of pizza with the futility of a death march.

And then they were inside, and out of the wind, and surrounded by comforting walls and walls of books. The rich, delightful smell of old paper, leather, and ink permeated the place, washing away the pettier odours of blood and oil and smog.

A rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but would not cost half as much during the winter months.

The flat was small and smelt of ancient things with which Gildas had not contended. In the sitting room shadowy photographs of Italian lakes had been hung high up by a previous tenant.

El paraíso huele de una forma muy concreta: a alcantarilla.

The strong aroma of meat, fried onion, cumin, and baked dough soaked into my skin so deeply that I have never lost it. I will die smelling like an empanada.

I understand that through books one is able to journey. One is able to smell and taste and go into different worlds without actually leaving where you are, with your imagination. Imagination is more powerful than anything. For me, anywhere the imagination is fed, is sustained, is strengthened, then you are preparing that human being to deal with anything they face in life.

[My father] was generous with his affection, given to great, awkward, engulfing hugs, and I can remember so clearly the smell of his hugs, all starched shirt, tobacco, Old Spice, and Cutty Sark. Sometimes I think I've never been properly hugged since.

The most evocative food smell is American seaside food - tuna melts and cookie dough ice cream, or the British version, fish and chips and toffee apples.

I make a very special Christmas brunch. And I start early in the morning because I like the smell of the turkey cooking.

I was introduced to the Turducken in New Orleans. And it wasn't Thanksgiving. Glenn at the Gourmet Butcher Block brought it by, and I had never heard of it or had seen one, and they put it in the booth, and it smelled so good that I had to taste it. And it was good. Then Thanksgiving came, and we got one in addition to the traditional turkey.

I went to a Turkish hairdresser, and they burned the hair off my ears with a lit taper. They just put the burning candle near your ears and you hear the hair being burned away. And the smell - urggh!

Smell was our first sense. It is even possible that being able to smell was the stimulus that took a primitive fish and turned a small lump of olfactory tissue on its nerve cord into a brain. We think because we smelled.