Quotes About Sensation

Feeling pain is still better than not feeling, isn't it?

Mesmo não sabendo que era amor, sentiam que era bom.

I think the first reading of a poem is a true one, and after that we delude ourselves into the belief that the sensation the impression, is repeated. But, as I say, it may be mere loyalty,a mere trick of memory a mere confusion we once felt,thus it may be said that poetry is a new experience every time,every time I read a poem the experience happns to occur and that is poetry

What's wrong with discourses about the obvious is that they corrupt consciousness with their easiness, with the speed with which they provide one with moral comfort, with the sensation of being right.

Dotknij mnie - pod palcami poczujesz rzep uschÅ'y, wilgo? wieczoru lub poranku, tÄ™tno kamienioÅ'omu miasta, oddech stepowej pustki, tych, którzy ju? nie ?yjÄ…, lecz których pamiÄ™tam. Dotknij mnie - a poczujesz pod czubkami palców wszystko to, co istnieje poza mnÄ…, beze mnie, co nie wierzy mnie, mojej twarzy, memu paltu, wpisujÄ…c nas w swój bilans zawsze po stronie ujemnej.

Experience has taught me, when I am shaving of a morning, to keep watch over my thoughts, because, if a line of poetry strays into my memory, my skin bristles so that the razor ceases to act…. The seat of this sensation is the pit of the stomach.

Darla's head bled profusely after the crash. Roslyn's tongue tingled as she remembered tasting the gooey substance out of curiosity.

Sometimes confusion feels like pain. Sometimes it feels like falling.

He'll never know the bracing sensation of diving headfirst into the river, the roar of entry followed by enveloping silence. All water is connected, and her world is limitless. He stands at the limits

There was just the sensation of it. A

The thing of which the act of perception is the perception is experienced as something not mental.

The essential attribute of a new sense is, not the perception of external objects or influences which ordinarily do not act upon the senses, but that external causes should excite in it a new and peculiar kind of sensation different from all the sensations of our five senses.

He put out his hand and I felt his fingers circling my arm. The hand was solid, heavy, like a moulded marble hand from antiquity. I looked at it and at the dark woollen material of his coat sleeve and the mounded expanse of his shoulder. A flooding feeling of relief passed violently through me, as if I was the passenger in a car that had finally swerved away from a sharp drop.

She was stepping off the pavement into the road and she felt it, a sudden sense of dislocation, almost a sensation of something giving way. She waited for the feeling to pass but it didn't: she returned home with it, and when she woke the next morning it was still there. She couldn't, as she said, give a name to it, but one consequence of it was that from that day she felt she was watching life from the outside rather than being part of it.

As a novelist, you have to pick your battles. You are tired. You have begun to experience the first ominous tinglings of carpal tunnel syndrome. You wake up in the middle of the night with both hands lying across your chest like a couple of plucked bird carcasses, dead of all sensation.

When I shoot at the range, I don't feel personally powerful but like the custodian of something powerful. I feel like a successful disciplinarian of something radically alien and potent. Analyze this sensation all you want; you still can't make it go away.

Gravity always sucks. It really, really does. It's a big challenge just re-adapting to feeling heavy again, you know? Even my arm feels heavy. My legs feel heavy.

Because her flesh knows heat, cold, affliction, I know fire, snow, and pain.

He was a victim of concussion. When it was all over he felt like a man who had been thrown from a cliff, whirled in a centrifuge, and spat out over a waterfall that fell and fell into emptiness and emptiness and never-- quite--touched--bottom--never--never--quite--no not quite--touched bottom... and you fell so fast you didn't touch the sides either... never... quite... touched... anything

He had felt that a moment before his making the turn, someone had been there. The air seemed charged with a special calm as if someone had waited there, quietly, and only a moment before he came, simply turned to a shadow and let him through. Perhaps his nose detected a faint perfume, perhaps the skin on the backs of his hands, on his face, felt the temperature rise at this one spot where a person's standing might raise the immediate atmosphere ten degrees for an instant.

Por qué será- dijo él una vez, en la entrada del Metro-- que tengo la sensación de conocerte desde hace muchos años? -Porque le aprecio a usted- replicó ella-, y no deseo nada suyo. Y también porque nos conocemos mutuamente.

If your reader feels the sun on his flesh, the wind fluttering his shirt sleeves, half your fight is won.

It was not burning, it was warming.

Do you see the story? Do you see anything? It seems to me I am trying to tell you a dream--making a vain attempt, because no relation of a dream can convey the dream-sensation, that commingling of absurdity, surprise, and bewilderment in a tremor of struggling revolt, that notion of being captured by the incredible which is the very essence of dreams...