Quotes About Sensation

I can feel myself start to tremble

Her fingers are cold against his flushed skin. It's nice. He hopes she won't take them away.

The water is cold, but his kiss is colder.

I reach out my hand to the fire. Since I was formed of snow, I wonder if I will melt. I hold my fingers close enough to burn, but all that happens when I snatch them back is that the tips are reddened and they sting.

she felt such an intense sensation of happiness it frightened her, because surely there was a price to pay for this sort of bliss.

It was like when you burn yourself on a hotplate and at first you think, Huh, that should have hurt more, and then it does hurt more, and then all of a sudden it hurts like hell.

And then she felt it. It was like when you burn yourself on a hot plate and at first you think, Huh, that should have hurt more, and then it does hurt more, and then all of a sudden it hurts like hell.

Vasazica asa se intampla, se gandea o parte din ea in timp ce se legana si se ruga. Asta e senzatia. Nu te schimbi. Nu exista nicio protectie speciala cand treci linia invizibila de la viata obisnuita la acea lume paralela unde se intampla tragedii. Se intampla exact asa. Nu devii altcineva. Nu primesti protectie speciala. Esti exact la fel. Totul in jurul tau inca miroase, arata, se simte exact la fel.

Oh, love is very much a physical thing.... I realize that it's very complicated, and I'm sure it can't be traced to individual neurons and hormones, but I think it's very much a physiological sensation that takes place in the brain.

What the mind has forgotten, the body remembers long after.

I felt something that was almost a cool wind against my arms and face, but not a wind, not even a breeze, just an air current that felt different, as if someone ten feet away had opened the lid of an ice box briefly. I reached out to feel it and, as if I had beckoned it, a great gust struck against my hand. All at once the trees shuddered and the grass skirt about the house swished.

I felt the baby roll beneath her taut skin. I had never felt that before, never known, honestly, that such a thing happened. It echoed against my palm for a long time after. It was like putting my hand to the surface of the ocean and being able to feel a fish beneath.

She had some appreciation for folks with a greed for sensation. Who were determined to "squeeze the orange" and press fresh experience from every day. But that way lay burnout. There were only so many experiences, really- a depressing discovery in itself., and surely you were better off trying to replicate the pleasing ones as often as possible.

Sometimes I feel it right under my ribs. In my throat. Under my breastbone. It moves around. Sometimes it lodges in my lower back, and I slump in my chair. It's an ache. It feels a little bit like having a mobile tumor or blood clot or kidney stone.

Pain has a flavor. The question is...what does it taste like to you?

There was a hint of something lingering in her mind. A memory, perhaps, although Jo could only catch the flavor of a few remaining tendrils.

In order for sensation to accede to the objectivity of things, it must itself be changed into a thing. The agent of change is language: the sensations are turned into verbal objects.

Good, effective pop music isn't just verbal language. It takes a good physical beat to make you feel something.

Natten har kommit in, sötaktig, tvekande. Man ser den inte, men den finns där, den beslöjar lamporna; man andas in någonting tjockt i luften: det är den. (s. 55)

I woke up again on Monday morning in the middle of an enormous sneeze and feeling like a Turkish weight lifter had spent the entire weekend squeezing every bone in my body.

Once more I had the sensation of being in the middle of a conversation that had started a few minutes ago without me. But on a morning so full of bright hope, I could be patient. "It was very good paella," I said. "What did you forget to tell me?

Once again, I had the sensation that everyone else was working off a fully rehearsed script, and I was being asked to improvise. "I just meant—nothing," I said, hoping for a clue on what my line was supposed to be.

From far away in the dim, wool-packed world of sleep I felt an uneasy sensation elbowing its way into my head and, as if in answer to a vague but demanding question, I heard a loud and explosive roaring sound—and I was awake, my nose dripping from a powerful sneeze. "Oh, lord," Rita said, sitting up beside me. "You caught a cold from all that— I knew you were going to— Here, here's a tissue.

To feel so much was its own justification.