Self-esteem and self-contempt have specific odors; they can be smelled.
Nothing can beat the smell of dew and flowers and the odor that comes out of the earth when the sun goes down.
The act of smelling something, anything, is remarkably like the act of thinking. Immediately at the moment of perception, you can feel the mind going to work, sending the odor around from place to place, setting off complex repertories through the brain, polling one center after another for signs of re recognition, for old memories and old connection.
We grow like flowers, and bear desire, the odor of the human flowers.
Smell is a potent wizard that transports you across thousands of miles and all the years you have lived.
The burnt odor in Washington is from the disintegrating authority of the governing classes.
Best way to get rid of kitchen odors: Eat out.
Many baseball fans look upon an umpire as a sort of necessary evil to the luxury of baseball, like the odor that follows an automobile.
There is nothing like an odor to stir memories.
There is no odor so bad as that which arises from goodness tainted.
Hatred, for the man who is not engaged in it, is a little like the odor of garlic for one who hasn't eaten any.
There is a peculiar burning odor in the room, like explosives. the kitchen fills with smoke and the hot, sweet, ashy smell of scorched cookies. The war has begun.
So great is the economy of nature, that most flowers which are fertilised by crepuscular or nocturnal insects emit their odour chiefly or exclusively in the evening.
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.
This is precisely the reason for the dissatisfaction of some, who end up sad - sad priests - in some sense becoming collectors of antiques or novelties, instead of being shepherds living with 'the odor of the sheep.' This I ask you: Be shepherds, with the 'odor of the sheep,' make it real, as shepherds among your flock, fishers of men.
No coffee can be good in the mouth that does not first send a sweet offering of odor to the nostrils.
I went out into the garden in the morning dusk, When sorrow enveloped me like a cloud; And the breeze brought to my nostril the odor of spices, As balm of healing for a sick soul.
Can words describe the fragrance of the very breath of spring - that delicious commingling of the perfume of arbutus, the odor of pines, and the snow - soaked soil just warming into life.
All finite things reveal infinitude: The mountain with its singular bright shade Like the blue shine on freshly frozen snow, The after-light upon ice-burdened pines; Odor of basswood upon a mountain slope, A scene beloved of bees; Silence of water above a sunken tree: The pure serene of memory of one man,- A ripple widening from a single stone Winding around the waters of the world.
Veneration of Mark Twain is one of the roots of our current intellectual stalemate.
Many prayers are declined because of the rank odor of a corrupt heart, rising through the beautiful words. Let the words be wrong but the meaning right. . . . That flawed utterance is dearer to God!
We live with our defects as with the odors we carry about us: we do not perceive them, but they incommode those who approach us.
Over the city lies the sweet, rotting odor of yesterday's unrecollected sins.
The scent of flowers does not travel against the wind; but the odor of good people travels; even against the wind: a good man pervades every place.
It is universally allowed that, though nothing can be more interesting in itself than the conversation of two lovers, yet nothing can be more insipid in detail - just as the heavenly fragrance of the rose becomes vapid and sickly under all the attempts made to retain and embody its exquisite odor.
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