Smell Quotes by Peter Garrett, Linda Ellerbee, Harry Reid, Kathy Hilton, Francis Bacon, Patience Gray and many others.
Death smells like homemade applesauce as it cooks on the stove. It is not the strangling scent of illness. It is not fear. It is freedom.
You want the scent? Smell yourself!
Extreme picky eaters may have what’s called Selective Eating Disorder. People with this experience physical and psychological discomfort over certain tastes, smells, textures.
I love men – everything about them: the way they look, the way they smell, the way they feel. I love their minds.
I turned vegetarian after 9/11. A friend of mine came back from New York and said that he couldn’t stand the smell of burnt flesh. It immediately reminded me of a barbecue.
Do I miss the players? Do I miss the smell of the stadiums? Do I miss the adrenaline that comes from being there? I miss that a lot.
I love the smell of a mans skin.
I love everything about books. I love the content, the way they look and even the lovely way they smell. I think a book collection says something about you as a person, and certainly my books are something I’d want to pass on for future generations.
A woman at the Limited once asked me, ‘Why do you work?’ She said, ‘You made a lot of money as a young man, so why are you still working?’ I had never thought about it before. Forced to consider it, I told her, ‘You know why? Because I think that if you stop to smell the roses, you’ll get hit by a truck.
Granny Ditto always referred to perfume as ‘smell good’ and for me it’s an essential. I have a sweetheart who’s extremely allergic to most scents, so I have to be extra careful – as well as creative – in the smell department. The key, I’ve found, are essential oils, which come in all kinds of 100% natural scents.
The second time I was pregnant friends would give me rubber bands to gnaw, because the first time, I had chewed things like a rubber bit that fell off the dishwasher. I remember driving once in the rain and the smell of my rubber-soled shoes in the damp caused me to pull over and start chomping on the rubber mat.
Honor is an old-world thing; but it smells sweet to those in whose hand it is strong.
Be selective about your external influences. Your multi-dimensional brain is influenced by everything you see, hear, read, smell, touch, feel or say.
Smell and taste are in fact but a single composite sense, whose laboratory is the mouth and its chimney the nose.
Smell is a long-distance sense, a way of stretching time and finding out in advance what lies ahead.
Sometimes a certain project will have a smell… It will have a little stench about it. That is a warning signal. You know it’s going to be a nightmare. You know they are not going to like it, and it’s not worth it.
A man will never love you or treat you as well as a store. If a man doesn’t fit, you can’t exchange him seven days later for a gorgeous cashmere sweater. And a store always smells good. A store can awaken a lust for things you never even knew you needed. And when your fingers first grasp those shiny, new bags…
The time for compromise has now passed, and the South is determined to maintain her position, and make all who oppose her smell Southern powder and feel Southern steel.
When you’re creating a fragrance, you’re always thinking about what you want that first smell to be, that first reaction.
The press is a watchdog. Not an attack dog. Not a lapdog. A watchdog. Now, a watchdog can’t be right all the time. He doesn’t bark only when he sees or smells something that’s dangerous. A good watchdog barks at things that are suspicious.
Why this cult of wilderness?… because we like the taste of freedom; because we like the smell of danger.
I love the smell of paper in the morning; it smells like victory.
No perfume. Because I want to know how you smell – right off the bat. Don’t mask it up. I need to know how you smell because I need to know how we connect. A smell is a big thing. Pheromones. Don’t cover that.
Get excited and enthusiastic about your own dream. This excitement is like a forest fire – you can smell it, taste it, and see it from a mile away.
Live your life to the fullest.
Self-pity? I see no moral objections to it, the smell drives people away, but that’s a practical objection, and occasionally an advantage.
It smelled like aging wood and creosote, plastic book covers, and old paper. Old paper, which my mom used to say was the smell of time itself.
Theatre has so many competitors, it’s no longer enough to see and hear a play. You want to be able to touch and smell it, too.
I took the longest showers of my life after every time I visited Gramacho. It affects the personality of the catadores. They always dress really well, they’re very sharp, and when they go out they always wear a lot of perfume because they’re very conscious of the possibility of having the smell.
Prada Infusion d’Iris perfume – my mother wears it, so it feels like home away from home. It’s lovely to smell her scent at all times.
Some popular quotations smell of airless closets. They exhale the stale imagination of the intellectual lower middle class. “Suspension of disbelief” has become one of them. Dressed up as a scintillating double negation, it serves the pedestrian notion of art as illusion.
Love is poetry. To fall in love with a person is like understanding a deep, moving poem. Noticing every little detail. To see what the poet shows, to smell what he describes and the urge to taste the intangible.
First, I eat healthy; it comes from the inside out. If you eat right, your skin, hair, nails will look good. The same if you have negative thoughts – they can give you a bad look, too; we reflect what we eat and think. We also taste and smell what we eat. Being happy and doing what I love really reflects.
Valek coalesced from the shadows and wrapped me in his long lean arms. I soaked in his musky smell, listening to his heart beat. Strong and steady. No indication that he had been sneaking around.
I will always smell good.
My dad always told me: ‘Stop and look back and appreciate what you’ve done; stop and smell the flowers.’
People can smell a lack of respect from a mile away.
I was 21, and rehearsing a play, took a fall and was in a coma for a few days. And when I recovered, I’d lost my sense of smell completely.
In an enclosed space, a camel’s breath can change the atmosphere of the room. Not only just the smell, they literally seem to change the atmospheric pressure. It’s so disgusting. It’s like they have eight stomachs each more rancid then the next and it just comes out of their mouth.
I think that any time a person comes face-to-face with their own mortality – close enough to Death that they can smell its breath – they have a choice: 1) Fall to pieces; 2) Reassemble yourself and keep walking.
I want real loyalty. I want someone who will kiss my ass in Macy’s window, and say it smells like roses.
Odors have an altogether peculiar force, in affecting us through association; a force differing essentially from that of objects addressing the touch, the taste, the sight or the hearing.
‎The party that leans upon the workers but serves the bourgeoisie, in the period of the greatest sharpening of the class struggle, cannot but sense the smells wafted from the waiting grave.
I detest my past, and anyone else‘s. I detest resignation, patience, professional heroism and obligatory beautiful feelings. I also detest the decorative arts, folklore, advertising, voices making announcements, aerodynamism, boy scouts, the smell of moth balls, events of the moment, and drunken people.
Sometimes it’s nice of someone to tell you what you smell like.
Every job is good if you do your best and work hard. A man who works hard stinks only to the ones that have nothing to do but smell.
He could smell her morality, the sweet rot of corruption
O the green things growing, the green things growing,
The faint sweet smell of the green things growing!
I should like to live, whether I smile or grieve,
Just to watch the happy life of my green things growing.
The faint sweet smell of the green things growing!
I should like to live, whether I smile or grieve,
Just to watch the happy life of my green things growing.
She kissed me on the mouth. Her mouth tasted like iced coffee and cardamom, and I was overwhelmed by the taste, her hot skin and the smell of unwashed hair. I was confused, but not unwilling. I would have let her do anything to me.
My girlfriend always told me, ‘Send roses while they can still smell them, tell people you love them while they can still hear.’
In the past, I had particularly loved her smell. She always smelled freshed, freshly washed or of freshed laundry or fresh sweat or freshly loved
Books for general reading always smell bad; the odor of common people hangs around them.
I think pot should be legal. I don’t smoke it, but I like the smell of it.
We don’t forget…. Our heads may be small, but they are as full of memories as the sky may sometimes be full of swarming bees, thousands and thousands of memories, of smells, of places, of little things that happened to us and which came back, unexpectedly, to remind us who we are.
A faint smell of lilac filled the air. There was always lilac in this part of town. Where there were grandmothers, there was always lilac.
I grabbed my book and opened it up. I wanted to smell it. Heck, I wanted to kiss it. Yes, kiss it. That’s right, I am a book kisser. Maybe that’s kind of perverted or maybe it’s just romantic and highly intelligent.
The smell of a freshly printed book is the best smell in the world.
Scent is very important to me but it is the case that my colleagues think it is hilarious that I simply cannot smell, ever, the smell of cannabis.
Although I don’t know Oslo at all, there is something about the feel or the smell of the place that feels like home, which is quite interesting.
I can remember lacing up my boots ahead of my first cap against Japan in the 1995 World Cup in South Africa. I remember the changing room, the smell of the place, every last detail of how I warmed up, walking out onto the pitch, thinking how proud my parents would be. I was doing all I ever wanted to do.
People come from internally, from other places in the United States, but also displaced people from other parts of the world. They come here. If you walk in the streets of San Francisco, you hear all the languages. You smell all the foods. You listen to the music from everywhere. There’s great diversity.
I like fresh and clean. I don’t ever want anyone to smell me and say, ‘Oh that guy is wearing a lot of cologne.’ I want people to smell me and say, ‘You smell really good!’ I think there is a difference.
I love to smell like roses, literally all day!
It definitely happens more often than you would think when someone comes up and you’re like: “He’s really attractive and seems really nice,” and it just doesn’t work if he smells bad.
Penicillin and plastic bags help a lot, fridges and hot water make manliness more comfortable and Tom Ford‘s fragrance range makes it smell better, but the idea that has pushed our lives into the light more than any other -ism or -ology is feminism.
If ya’ smell what The Rock is cookin’!
Women like to use products that other women say work. The Internet will be a big opportunity, but you cant smell a fragrance there yet.
No coffee is ever quite as good as it smells.
If you admire somebody, you should go ahead and tell them. People never get the flowers while they can still smell them.
Memories, imagination, old sentiments, and associations are more readily reached through the sense of smell than through any other channel.
Well may hee smell fire, whose gowne burnes.
The smell of shrimp is comforting.
Men directors somehow think it’s great to show heroes all unkempt and ungroomed. You’d be able to smell the hero’s aftershave lotion if a woman directed him.
What airs outblown from ferny dells And clover-bloom and sweet brier smells.
Each time you look at a tangerine, you can see deeply into it. You can see everything in the universe in one tangerine. When you peel it and smell it, it’s wonderful. You can take your time eating a tangerine and be very happy.
People are different when you can smell them and look up close, you know?
The greatest gift is our own eyes, sense of smell, and abilities to deduce.
I’ve always been in love with the States. When I was a kid, we would take these long summer holidays in Texas, Nashville, and all over. I fell in love with the people, the food, even the smell. You don’t necessarily get that in old Europe.
Anything is possible when your man smells like Old Spice and not a lady. I’m on a horse.
If your kitchen smells good, your food lost something.
There are two things I love about Temescal. One is the sense of space that you get when you get to the top. You can see for ages. You can see the ocean spread out before you, but you also feel like you’re in the mountains. And second is the smell of it, which I love most when I’ve been traveling a long time.
Everywhere I go I smell fresh paint.
I think that when you smell good, you feel good. You know how when you’re in a room and someone else smells good, you’re like, ‘Where is that?’
Women apparently are quite drawn to men who have differences rather than similarities in their histocompatibility system. They pick it up by smell, and they can pick it up from kissing.
My favourite smell is horses. In fact, most of the time, I do smell like horses.
Jesus is not a candle. A company in South Dakota is selling candles with the scent of Jesus. You light one and your friends says, Christ, what’s that smell?
There are three things you cannot hide: smell of the garlic, fragrance of the flower and the wisdom of the teacher.
All our lives we are engaged in preserving our experiences and keeping them fresh by artificially sprinkling the water of memory over them. They have ceased to retain their original smell and fragrance. Do you call it life- this effort at the preservation of a phantom freshness in something that is withered and gone?
The body of a dead enemy always smells sweet.
We woke up some years ago about the consequences of ozone depletion, the hole in the atmosphere. You can’t see it. You can’t taste it. You can’t smell it. But now we do regard that as a key issue. It’s a scientific finding.
Make yourself smell nice. I even wear perfume sometimes when I’m alone.
My California sunrise, there’s a real mist in the air. I think of the mountains. You can smell the farm fields. You can smell the dirt and the lights and the whole sun.
I love doing laundry! It’s so satisfying. I love the way it smells. I love doing the sheets.
It is an impressive place that smells like the 1950s, when everyone wore starch white shirts and black slacks and perfect crewcuts and worked on massive industrial projects
Of the smells, bread; of the tastes, salt.
I love New York, I love the smell of New York… I love the subway.
Who was the first person to walk into a harbor and say, “Whatever that horrible smell is I want to eat it”
I bought Jayne Mansfield’s mansion in L.A. after her death. I had met her in England and remembered her perfume. When I moved in, I could smell her, and I saw her apparition.
Ethical dilemmas have a way of sneaking up on a person. If something smells funny, stay away from it. Or help get rid of it.
I rather like the smell of absurdity in the morning.
How could I have known that murder can sometimes smell like honeysuckle?
The mere smell of cooking can evoke a whole civilization.
My garden, with its silence and pulses of fragrance that come and go on the airy undulations, affects me like sweet music. Care stops at the gates, and gazes at me wistfully through the bars.
I’d kiss you, but you smell like a gym bag.
One function of the intellect is to catalog. But cataloging doesn’t change anything. If we call it a rose, or by any other name, it still smells as sweet. The name doesn’t really matter. It is convenient for us.
It’s so nice to get flowers while you can still smell the fragrance.
Smell that? You smell that? Napalm, son. Nothing else in the world smells like that. I love the smell of napalm in the morning.
Feelings aroused by the touch of someone’s hand, the sound of music, the smell of a flower, a beautiful sunset, a work of art, love, laughter, hope and faith – all work on both the unconscious and the conscious aspects of the self, and they have physiological consequences as well.
I wish people would turn off their computers, go outside, talk to people, touch people, lick people, enjoy each other’s company and smell each other on the rump.
What does the earth look like in the places where people commit atrocities? Is there a bad smell, a genius loci, something about the landscape that might incriminate?
Once you fall for someone, their smell can be a powerful thing. Women will wear their boyfriends’ T-shirts, and throughout tales in history men have held on to their lover’s handkerchief.
I smell blood. I’m like a pit bull. Once I taste blood I’m on you .. and I’m about to taste blood.
This league is about trying to smell where the weakness is.
I have learned that real angels don’t have gossamer white robes and Cherubic skin, they have calloused hands and smell of the days’ sweat.
Consequently, the sensuous aspect of art is related only to the two theoretical sensesof sight and hearing, while smell, taste, and touch remain excluded.
The smell rewards the care.
The smell of roasting meat together with that of burning fruit wood and dried herbs, as voluptuous as incense in a church, is enough to turn anyone into a budding gastronome
Whether you are cooking, cleaning house, or planting flowers, try to concentrate on the textures, the smells, colors, tastes, sounds, all Zen moments of focused joy.
There’s been a fragmentation of how the market functions, but I believe printed books are here to stay. People like the tactile experience, the smell of them; there’s a great romance to them.
I love the smell of a man’s skin.
Feelings are like chemicals, the more you analyze them the worse they smell.
I love the smell of a theater. The old rooms and the carpet and all that stuff. I love to tell stories. Even before I was doing music, I saw myself as a director. So most of my songs come in a play form, you know, where there are characters and stories, so I like to go beyond just the song sometimes.
Any woman I know can smell a boyfriend a mile away. Women are intuitive, they know when a guy is interested but he’s not going to be there for her in that boyfriend-y way.
Everything is extraordinarily clear. I see the whole landscape before me, I see my hands, my feet, my toes, and I smell the rich river mud. I feel a sense of tremendous strangeness and wonder at being alive. Wonder of wonders.
Starting a novel is opening a door on a misty landscape; you can still see very little but you can smell the earth and feel the wind blowing.
My childhood library was small enough not to be intimidating. And yet I felt the whole world was contained in those two rooms. I could walk any aisle and smell wisdom.
Being a cult figure in one’s own lifetime I am afraid is not at all pleasant. However I do not find that it tends to puff one up: in my case at any rate it makes me feel extremely small and inadequate. But even the nose of a very modest idol cannot remain entirely untickled by the sweet smell of incense.
When I was a boy, I thought scent was contained in dewdrops on flowers and if I got up very early in the morning, I could collect it and make perfume.
I’ve always lived by the ocean, and I always will. There’s nothing like taking a walk and being able to smell the ocean breeze.
MS-DOS isn’t dead, it just smells that way.
An author knows his landscape best; he can stand around, smell the wind, get a feel for his place.
When I read, I want to be fully transported to another place. I want to feel things, smell things.
As I sat back and imagined what my transition from the Red Sox might be, I thought it would smell more like champagne than beer, I guess you would say.
I think smells, like sounds, can be so much immediately affecting.
I want to be careful not to throw all this away. This is happiness. I think this is what happiness is. I haven‘t got it yet, but I can sense it out there. I feel I’m close to it. Some days, I’m so close I can almost smell it.
I love reality. I love the world. I love the smell of it. I love it.
There was something soothing about the crackle of paper, the smell of ink, and the soft scratching of nibs and brushes.
Ego is like a room of your own, a room with a view with the temperature and the smells and the music that you like. You want it your own way. You’d just like to have a little peace, you’d like to have a little happiness, you know, just gimme a break.
If you don’t smell nice before the game, it’s going to be pretty bad during and after.
The biggest thing I’ve found since I left the game – and I’m glad I chose to leave rather than being sacked – is that so many people are in football for the wrong reasons. Not because they love the game, but because they smell money.
Most of the people I admire, they usually smell funny and don’t get out much. It’s true. Most of them are either dead or not feeling well.
One of the things that you’re not really in control of – apart from everything – is your smell.
It is sometimes very hard to tell the difference between history and the smell of skunk.
Does anyone smell roasting meat?’ said Razo, ‘Oh, wait, it’s just Geric’s face.
I love the scents of winter! For me, it’s all about the feeling you get when you smell pumpkin spice, cinnamon, nutmeg, gingerbread and spruce.
If you smell good, you feel good, and your day’s fabulous.
I love using Moroccan Oil. It makes my hair feel great and I love the smell.
Nothing is quite as intoxicating as the smell of bacon frying in the morning, save perhaps the smell of coffee brewing.
The thing that makes vivid writing is when the reader is in the body of the story, the body of the character. Things smell like something; there’s weather, there’s texture, there’s light.
Can you stand a little closer?” “Hmm?” “You smell good. I like to smell you.
The moral sense is a natural faculty in us like the sense of smell or of touch.
At the heart of science is an essential balance between two seemingly contradictory attitudes-an openness to new ideas, no matter how bizarre or counterintuitive they may be, and the most ruthless skeptical scrutiny of all ideas, old and new. This is how deep truths are winnowed from deep nonsense.
I just prefer wood. I like the smell. To me, it’s a lot cheaper than electric or gas, and it’s more convenient. It’s just a better heat to me.
When I go on a nostalgia trip it’s not aesthetic. For me it’s about trying to recapture the smell or the feeling of something that I’ve experienced in the past personally.
I love the smell of the Earth. I’m a good cook my friends say. I love cooking for my friends. So I’m totally the opposite of being evil. I think only if you’re a good person can you be very evil onscreen.
And you will believe in love And all that it’s supposed to be But just until the fish start to smell And you’re struck down by a hammer.
You go from movies where you are wearing nice clothes and you’re trying to smell good to a movie where you are in water and you are wet all day, and you are dealing with that elements, it gets rough, but it was definitely something I wanted to try.
When I cook certain dishes, I smell my grandmother‘s kitchen, my grandmother’s smells. I thought, ‘What a wonderful way to tell a story.’
I really like the smell of the tennis balls, the new ones. I don’t need to do it, but it’s just my habit, what I do on the court when we change for the new tennis balls. I just smell them. Maybe it’s for luck. I’ve been doing it all my life.
During the course of the seven years I played scenes with an oil slick, I played a scene with a grain of rice. Sometimes with indescribable creatures. I remember having a conversation with something which was simply a smell, that’s all. It was part of our job.
Since he saved me from the attack, I have associated his smell with safety, so as long as I focus on it, I feel safe now.
Between the covers of the books that no one had ever read again, in the old parchments damaged by dampness, a livid flower had prospered, and in the air that had been the purest and brightest in the house an unbearable smell of rotten memories floated.
You can never get the smell of smoke out. Like the smell of failure in life.
For the sense of smell, almost more than any other, has the power to recall memories and it’s a pity we use it so little.
I love paperwhites – they smell heavenly and you can often pick them up from a big home improvement store garden center already planted in pretty terra cotta pots.
How can you smell this good after the kind of crappy day we’ve had?” “I sweat perfume. Like all girls.
Nora said: ‘I love you, Nicky, because you smell nice and know such fascinating people.
I have a lucky perfume. I love beautiful smells, but I save one of my favorite perfumes to wear only when I feel like I need some extra luck.
Soul, soul is nothing. Can you see it, smell it, touch it? No.
I like New York because you’re kind of forced to smell everybody else‘s funk. So it keeps you biologically attached to the world around you.
Your mouth smells like my jock strap.
My studio is not arty. It doesn’t smell of turpentine, and I’m not knee-high in paper.
There was that special smell made up of paper, ink, and dust; the busy hush; the endless luxury of thousands of unread books. Best of all was the eager itch of anticipation as you went out the door with your arms loaded down with books.
I read in a book once that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but I’ve never been able to believe it. I don’t believe a rose WOULD be as nice if it was called a thistle or a skunk cabbage.
I like a man who smells good. Puts on cologne; lotions his body. It keeps me wanting. I like feeling that way.
My husband always smells good to me.
You are the only person who loves me in the world,” said Elizabeth. “When you talk to me I smell violets.
I know every book of mine by its smell, and I have but to put my nose
between the pages to be reminded of all sorts of things.
between the pages to be reminded of all sorts of things.
A light wind blew through here that carried with it scents of sadness and loss, not recognizable odors but smells that corresponded to nothing, chimerical fragrances able to evoke melancholic memories.
Liza poured thick batter from a pitcher onto a soapstone griddle. The hot cakes rose like little hassocks, and small volcanoes formed and erupted on them until they were ready to be turned. A cheerful brown, they were, with tracings of darker brown. And the kitchen was full of the good sweet smell of them.
He smelled cold water and cold intrepid green. Those early flowers smelled like cold water. Their fragrance was not the still perfume of high summer; it was the smell of cold, raw green.
The capitalist knows that all commodities, however scurvy they may look, or however badly they may smell, are in faith and in truth money, inwardly circumcised Jews, and what is more, a wonderful means whereby out of money to make more money.
I think that style, taste, and choices in general are forged by everything that surrounds you – everything you see, taste, touch, smell and hear. So of course, my family has influenced me as a person and in my own style, but so have all the experiences that I went through as an individual.
Before a show, you might have aches or pains, or it’s a bad rainy day, or it’s too humid. We all complain about stuff. But… how do I put this poetically? Once it’s the roar of the crowd and the smell of the greasepaint, forget it. Once the adrenaline kicks in and your chest expands, you forget about all that.
You don’t want to spend your time around people who make you hold your breath. You can’t fill up when you’re holding your breath. And writing is about filling up, filling up when you are empty, letting images and ideas and smells run down like water – just as writing is also about dealing with the emptiness.
You dont have to be a political genius to sniff the smell of blood in the water.
A rose by any other name may smell as sweet, but a woman called by a devaluing name will only be weakened by the misnomer.
I remember when I came home from the hospital after having my son, I wore a Narciso Rodriguez black coat. Then, I was using this fragrance that I had created. I walk by that coat, and it still smells like that fragrance. It takes you right there.
Success is like a fart – only your own smells nice.
We plan, we toil, we suffer – in the hope of what? A camel-load of idol’s eyes? The title deeds of Radio City? The empire of Asia? A trip to the moon? No, no, no, no. Simply to wake just in time to smell coffee and bacon and eggs.
The sense of smell can be extraordinarily evocative, bringing back pictures as sharp as photographs of scenes that had left the conscious mind.
We know what totalitarian looks like, we know what oppression looks like, we know what the dumb culture of totalitarianism smells like. This is it! It’s happening now, and the future of the world is being decided. So, get out there, make your own sites, take action!
Your lips, beloved, are like a honeycomb: honey and milk are under the tongue. And the smell of your clothes is like the smell of my home.
I’ve always been in love with the States. When I was a kid, we would take these long summer holidays in Texas, Nashville, and all over. I fell in love with the people, the food, even the smell.
I know how to live here, I know how everything smells, and tastes, and is. What could I ever search for in the world, except this again?
You can’t expect a man in a dung heap to smell sweet.
My wife and I just prefer Seattle. It’s a beautiful city. Great setting. You open your front door in the morning and the air smells like pine and the sea, as opposed to bus exhaust.
Another way to be awakened by the beauty and complexity of the word is to get a dog. Small Things like a plant that I had passed a thousand time and never given a second thought to. But the dog is curious. And the dog stops and wants to smell this and smell that. And the dog makes you look and focus and take the time.
I still love the book-ness of books, the smell of books: I am a book fetishist—books to me are the coolest and sexiest and most wonderful things there are.
I’m sentimental about many things: the lumpy feel of a baby’s unused feet, the metallic smell of the air before the first snow, the last scene in ‘It’s a Wonderful Life.’ But Valentine‘s Day leaves me cold.
I’m definitely of the ‘less is more‘ mentality, and what I really appreciate is that fragrance is chemical, and it changes with your body throughout the day. It’s a very deeply personal thing. One smell on one person isn’t the same on another, and I appreciate the uniqueness of that experience.
I even love the smell of books.
When you’re a failure in Hollywood, that’s like starving to death outside a banquet hall, with smells of filet mignon driving you crazy.
One smell of brimstone makes the whole world kin.
I have a very keen sense of smell and always associate certain people and places with particular fragrances. For me, nothing is more likely to set a mood than certain scents. I find I vary the perfume I use depending on the climate and the time of day. However a few great perfumes seem to work for most occasions.
I like one hair, tuna fish, the smell of rain and things that are pink. I hate pimples, baked potatoes, when my mother’s mad, and religious holidays.
My favourite smell on a man is Lynx and Marc Jacobs.
I don’t want to be taken to Bhutan and smell the flowers. I want to be told something I couldn’t have been told any other way.
My sixth sense uses the other five senses to communicate. I may have a vision, hear a sound, get a smell, or have a physical sensation that corresponds with how someone passed. What I do revolves around noticing subtle differences in my mind and body – because they’re messages.
To understand history,’ Chacko said, ‘we have to go inside and listen to what they’re saying. And look at the books and the pictures on the wall. And smell the smells.
From so much of this seriously-intended pornography there rises, even when it is lewdly or boisterously comic, the acrid smell, unmistakable, of self-dislike.
I wish people would turn off their computers, go outside, talk to people, touch people, lick people, enjoy each other’s company and smell each other on the rump
The family that I live for only breathes the air that smells of combat.
The sexual parts are not only vivid examples of the body’s dominion; they are also apertures whose damp emissions and ammoniac smells testify to the mysterious putrefaction of the body.
The piano sounds like a carnival and the microphone smells like a beer. And they sit at the bar and put bread in my jar and say, man, what are you doing here?
A dish should have flavor, texture, appearance and smell, but I’m doing it differently. We take Chinese food, play with your sentiments, memories of it, and then take you to the border; you won’t fall over the edge, but you get excitement.
You are eating the sea, that’s it, only the sensation of a gulp of sea water has been wafted out of it by some sorcery, and you are on the verge of remembering you don’t know what, mermaids or the sudden smell of
kelp on the ebb tide or a poem you read once, something connected
with the flavor of life itself.
kelp on the ebb tide or a poem you read once, something connected
with the flavor of life itself.
My favourite smell is the smell of cut grass, and the sound of sprinklers going on.
If peace had a smell,it would be the smell of a library full of old, leather-bound books.
I actually get quite sad when I smell bacon.
The more you kick something that’s dead, the worse it smells.
I have a very powerful form of alcoholism. I finally gave up and accepted the fact that if I even smell too much booze, I’m going to start drinking again. That’s just how I am.
They had been corrupted by money, and he had been corrupted by sentiment. Sentiment was the more dangerous, because you couldn’t name its price. A man open to bribes was to be relied upon below a certain figure, but sentiment might uncoil in the heart at a name, a photograph, even a smell remembered.
The flower that smells the sweetest is shy and lowly.
I don’t believe in publishers who wish to butter their bannocks on both sides while they’ll hardly allow an author to smell treacle. I consider they are too grabby altogether and like Methodists they love to keep the Sabbath and everything else they can lay hands upon.
I didn’t go to many movies. My mom would make a family outing and bring chicken in the theater. Smell up the whole place. The most impactful movies were ‘Godfather II’ and ‘Scarface‘. I loved the human complexity, and those movies are so well shot. Cinematic greatness. I really stopped going in my early twenties.
For Father’s Day, my kids always give me a bottle of cologne called English Leather. It’s appropriate! To them I always smell like a wallet.
He couldn’t tell that this was one of those occasions a man never forgets: a small cicatrice had been made on the memory, a wound that would ache whenever certain things combined – the taste of gin at mid-day, the smell of flowers under a balcony, the clang of corrugated iron, an ugly bird flopping from perch to perch.
Memories of my Southern upbringing in Richmond, Virginia, always include the smell of good southern food: fried chicken, cheese grits, Smithfield ham, and buttermilk biscuits.
I run; I am a coward at heart. I swear, when I smell violence or aggression the coward comes out in me. I have no desire to fight anybody except myself.
The smell of the carpet in a hotel room is the same everywhere.
On a man, I love Tom Ford’s Tobacco Vanille. But I wear Orchid Soleil – I love a sweet smell.
On the moral plane, true friends enjoy the same protection as the sense of smell confers upon dogs. They scent the sorrow of their friends, they divine its causes, and they clasp it to their minds and hearts.
It comes with being sixteen,” Mom said. “You teenagers, you go into a cocoon when you turn fifteen and don’t come out for years.” “So they become butterflies when they finally come out?” my little sister Christina asked. “No,” Mom said. “They’re still caterpillars, only now they’re big fat caterpillars that smell.
The mechanisms inside me tick like a criminal. My mind works like theirs, and criminals can smell it when they’re around me – but I choose not to use it in a bad way. I just choose to do good things.
I don’t mean to be insolent. I’m truthful. I tell the truth and the truth sometimes hurts. For instance, you have bad breath, Lieutenant. I can smell it from here. It must offend a lot of people. That’s the truth. But how many people have told you that? Instead, they either lie or try to avoid your company.
If you can see it, hear it, feel it, taste it, touch it, or smell it, you can be present with it. It is of the present moment, and so it brings to you the opportunity to be present with it.
So there you have it, a lifetime of first smelling the books, they all smell wonderful, reading the books, loving the books, and remembering the books.
Her nightmare clung to her like the smell of smoke to cloth.
Keep it simple. Tell the truth. People can smell the truth.
My favorite thing about the Internet is that you get to go into the private world of real creeps without having to smell them.
To smell, though well, is to stink.
fate is not just whose cooking smells good, but which way the wind blows
I still have that new senator smell.
I quit smoking. I feel better. I smell better. And it’s safer to drink out of old beer cans laying around the house.
I loved every second of Catholic church. I loved the sickly sweet rotting-pomegranate smells of the incense. I loved the overwrought altar, the birdbath of holy water, the votive candles; I loved that there was a poor box, the stations of the cross rendered in stained glass on the windows.
I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.
Y’all might as well come on out,” I said. “I know you’re there. I can smell you.” “Smell me? But I just took a shower this morning!” an indignant voice drifted out of the shadows. There was a loud sound, like someone was getting smacked upside the head. Then another voice let out a low mutter. “Shut up, idiot.
I love the smell of Burger King when I ride past, but sometimes I have to avoid it.
You have a visceral, physical response to being in [the real] places, and the sights and sounds and the smells just bring something else out in you. You’re not having to fake that or imagine that. It’s there. It becomes as much an act of something you bounce off as the other people you’re working with.
What smells good in the store may stink in the stewpot.
I was writing this really long joke about the smell of poop, and I was like, ‘What am I doing with my life?’ I started to think about why I was a comedian, and then I came up with a reason for existence, which is: inserting absurdity or stupidity into strangers‘ lives in order to make the world a better place.
Of course it’s all right for librarians to smell of drink.
Growing up, I had really bad skin. I had a skin disorder. Yes, I did. And my mother went to great lengths to try to find something to remedy it. I remember she took a trip to Madagascar and came back with all these alternative, medicinal herbs and stuff. They didn’t smell so good, but I think they worked some magic.
Since dogs could hear and smell better than men, we could concentrate on sight. Since courage is commonplace in dogs, men’s adrenal glands could shrink. Dogs, by making us more efficient predators, gave us time to think. In short, dogs civilized us.
I wish we could see perfumes as well as smell them. I’m sure they would be very beautiful.
…Life is nothing but trading smells.
Shortly after I turned 13, Child Welfare took me into care. I was sent to a residential centre where girls with behavioural problems were ‘evaluated’. My time there comes back to me now only in flashes of smells, images and sounds.
When you listen to old-school music, you can smell your mother’s food in the kitchen. You can feel where you was when you first heard that song. That’s what’s beautiful about music. It’s for everyone, but we all have individual memories that make us love it.
In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.
The camembert with its venison scent defeats the Marolles and Limbourg dull smells; It spreads its exhalation, smothering the other scents under its surprising breath abundance.
It doesn’t smell of sulphur any more. No, it smells of something else. It smells of hope, and you have to have hope in your heart.
But what is memory if not the language of feeling, a dictionary of faces and days and smells which repeat themselves like the verbs and adjectives in a speech, sneaking in behind the thing itself,into the pure present, making us sad or teaching us vicariously.
It’s gross. We use real brains – I think they’re lamb or cow or something. Intestines smell. Brains don’t really smell, but what’s amazing about the brain is that it’s almost like scrambled eggs or soft tofu, almost like a gel. The brain controls so much of what we do, but you could put your finger right through it.
Wild honey smells of freedom The dust – of sunlight The mouth of a young girl, like a violet But gold – smells of nothing.
I need to smell its smells, to hear its sounds, to see food in a pot that simmers, bubbles, sizzles. I enjoy the physical involvement of stirring, turning, poking, mashing, scraping.
The Space Station is primarily made of aluminum. The smell is really weird and sort of like burning metal. It is absolutely distinct and totally repeatable.
The Chanel woman? I don’t even need to see; I smell her from round the corner.
I feel like human beings cover up their scent with all these different things and products. I feel like we’ve given up our ability to engage with people because we don’t know how people smell anymore.
I always liked the smell of a smoke-filled room. I think it’s a good smell.
An old building is like a show. You smell the soul of a building. And the building tells you how to redo it.
You ever tasted a smell? It’s a very strange feeling. I’ve done it quite a few times and it still freaks me out.
That’s the only dog I know who can smell someone just thinking about food.
Performance art can involve the audience with taste, smell and sounds not available with electronic media and not practical with conventional theater. This is due to the usually small audience.
Sometimes when you pick up your child you can feel the map of your own bones beneath your hands, or smell the scent of your skin in the nape of his neck. This is the most extraordinary thing about motherhood – finding a piece of yourself separate and apart that all the same you could not live without.
Santiago Nasar had often told me that the smell of closed-in flowers had an immediate relation to death for him.
There are tons of women’s perfumes that I’ve smelt and been like, ‘I love that. I would totally wear that,’ and lots of women smell a lot of men’s cologne and think the same thing about that. I think there should be no reason to put gender on it.
An inferior sense of smell,” Marcus said, as if absolutely nothing of significance had happened, “is distinct from being told that one smells unpleasant.
You have to see and smell and feel the circumstances of people to really understand them.
I wish the camera could smell my armpits. Dude, mine smell good.
*We give so little when it’s in us always to give so much more. It’s bothering to listen with an open heart to someone who smells bad. It’s hard.
Most people enjoy the sight of their own handwriting as they enjoy the smell of their own farts.
Readers want to see, hear, feel, smell the action of your story, even if that action is just two people having a quiet conversation.
I can smell when someone has a cavity. It’s a very specific smell – not a bad-breath smell – but something that is really strong.
You know what I love the smell of? Christmas trees and pine. I always have a pine candle even if it’s not Christmas.
Everything in the service needs to preach – architecture, lighting, songs, prayers, fellowship, the smell – it all preaches. All five senses must be engaged to experience God.
I don’t wear a lot of perfumey-perfumes because I think a lot of them smell like you’re wearing perfume. And I don’t want to smell like that.
Smells are the fallen angels of the senses.
Get excited and enthusiastic about you own dream. This excitement is like a forest fire – you can smell it, taste it, and see it from a mile away.
I can’t stand the smell of beer.
It smelled pretty rank, but I was getting used to the smell of death, as much as anyone could get used to it.
And then he was kissing her, and she was struck by his nearness, his solidity, his smell. It was of the garden and the earth and the sun. When Cassandra opened her eyes, she realized she was crying. She wasn’t sad, though, these were the tears of being found, of having come home after a long time away.
Nothing beat that welcoming smell of fried food wafting into the hallway from the kitchen as I walked in from school as a kid.
The kids I knew growing up who worked on bikes all loved the smell of gas. It is the liquid agent for speed.
In a lot of ways, a lot of smells that aren’t necessarily edible smell good, and they remind you of certain aspects of food. So making those associations with what smells good or smells a certain way and pairing that with actual edible ingredients is one avenue that we take creatively.
The great leaders that I have worked with are people who have a good sense of empathy with other people. They can walk a factory floor, or walk through a battalion and smell if there’s something wrong.
People who read poetry, for example, like the feel, the heft and the smell of a book.
Sweet smells are sometimes used to cover foul ones.
It is impossible that a fish doesn’t carry any smell of the sea and a real love, of the melancholy!
I like very masculine smells. I like wood scents on men. I just like a man to smell great, but I don’t like very strong cologne. I don’t like when a man is overpowered by cologne. I think subtle and sexy is always best.
A man should not love the moon. An ax should not lose weight in his hand. His garden should smell of rotting apples, And grow a fair amount of nettles.
He was not used to the smell of dragon breath, which is best described as a combination of the stench of burning rubber and the stink of old socks, with overtones of a hamster cage in dire need of a cleaning.
For a long time we dreamed of a real leather ball, and at last my brother had one for his birthday. The feel of the leather, the stitching round it, the faint gold letters stamped upon it, the touch of the seam, the smell of it, all affected me so deeply that I still have that ache of beauty when I hold a cricket ball.
Decades after a person has stopped collecting bubble gum cards, he can still discover himself collecting ballparks… their smells, their special seasons, their moods.
I don’t drink much anymore, because it’s supposedly not good for me. I still have gallons of it around though. I smell the cork and do a lot of wishing.
Wall Street sharks will go where they smell the blood, and you cannot change that.
Success is living up to your potential. That’s all. Wake up with a smile and go after life… Live it, enjoy it, taste it, smell it, feel it.
Women show men beauty in things beyond their ambitions. Women tell men to stop and smell the roses.
I want my home to look good, feel good, and smell good. I want it to be inclusive, to reflect the people who live there.
And how could anyone consent to give up the smell of open books, old or new?
I love the smell of the universe in the morning.
Nursing demands vigilance about people. The sights and smells that a patient offers, their movements and their offhand comments all contribute crucial information to understanding what they need. Training and experience heighten one’s ability to see what needs to be seen.
Fish is the only food that is considered spoiled once it smells like what it is.
I love cleansing my face in the mornings and at night using Bliss Foaming Facial Wash. It makes my skin feel soft, and the refreshing smell always wakes me up.
Prayer is like money – it has no smell.
…I need a boyfriend. And to get a boyfriend, you have to look good. Doesn’t hurt to smell good too.
This is what you do on your very first day in Paris. You get yourself, not a drizzle, but some honest-to-goodness rain, and you find yourself someone really nice and drive her through the Bois de Boulogne in a taxi. The rain’s very important. That’s when Paris smells its sweetest. It’s the damp chestnut trees.
He wants you to smile and smell sweet and be his lady love. He wants to hear you recite all your pretty little words the way the septa taught you. He wants you to love him… and fear him.
Man has created some lovely dwellings, some soul-stirring literature. He has done much to alleviate physical pain. But he has not … created a substitute for a sunset, a grove of pines, the music of the winds, the dank smell of the deep forest, or the shy beauty of a wildflower.
Christmas in Bethlehem. The ancient dream: a cold, clear night made brilliant by a glorious star, the smell of incense, shepherds and wise men falling to their knees in adoration of the sweet baby, the incarnation of perfect love.
When you turn from one room to the next, when your animal senses no longer perceive the sounds of the dishwasher, the ticking clock, the smell of a chicken roasting – the kitchen and all its seemingly discrete bits dissolve into nothingness – or into waves of probability.
The sense of smell, like a faithful counsellor, foretells its character.
A third or more of the brain is devoted to visual processing, not true of any other sense. We have color vision and it is truly binocular. This sophistication is not true of other senses, such as smell, where many genes are actually mutated and no longer work.
I think passion in a physical way goes hand in hand with taste and smell.
Thou know’st the first time that we smell the air we wawl and cry. When we are born we cry, that we are come to this great state of fools.
Men still wear cologne, but I wish they wouldn’t. No matter what you may believe, all men’s fragrances smell like the air freshener in a taxi.
Her cover version of Smells Like Teen Spirit is the reason Kurt killed himself.
The smell of cigars reminds me of someone I used to know, and it just always brings me back. I love it; I find something very comforting about it.
There is something about poverty that smells like death. Dead dreams dropping off the heart like leaves in a dry season and rotting around the feet; impulses smothered too long in the fetid air of underground caves. The soul lives in sickly air. People can be slaveships in shoes.
The money has always been wasted on me. I don’t care for beautiful things, funnily enough. I am my father’s daughter. The things that excite me are the smell of a wood-burning stove, uncultivated fields. My house is decaying and falling to pieces. It’s not had the love it deserves over twenty years.
A Song of the good green grass! A song no more of the city streets; A song of farms – a song of the soil of fields. A song with the smell of sun-dried hay, where the nimble pitchers handle the pitch-fork; A song tasting of new wheat, and of fresh-husk’d maize.
But Gladiator is one of my favourite adventures because I really loved going into the world. I loved creating the world to the degree where you could almost smell it.
The lime trees were in bloom. But in the early morning only a faint fragrance drifted through the garden, an airy message, an aromatic echo of the dreams during the short summer night.
