Scent Quotes - Page 17

• I emitted some civetlike female stink, a distinct perfume of sexual wanting, that he had followed to find me here in the dark.

  Janet Fitch

  Dark, Smell, Female

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• I think a lot about the poems I wasn't able to write...I masturbrated...Solitude is essentially a matter of pride; you bury yourself in your own scent. The issue is the same for all real poets. If you've been happy for too long, you become banal. By the same token, if you've been unhappy for a long time, you lose your poetic power...Happiness and poverty can only coexist for the briefest time. Afterword either happiness coarsens the poet or the poem is so true it destroys his happiness.

  Orhan Pamuk

  Real, Writing, Pride

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• This morning, Tegus welcomed me again with an arm clasp and cheek touch. I wasn't startled this time, and I breathed in at his neck. How can I describe the scent of his skin? He smells something like cinnamon-- brown and dry and sweet and warm. Ancestors, is it wrong for me to imagine laying my head on his chest and closing my eyes and breathing in his smell?

  Shannon Hale

  Sweet, Morning, Eye

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• She was elusive. She was today. She was tomorrow. She was the faintest scent of a cactus flower, the flitting shadow of an elf owl. We did not know what to make of her. In our minds we tried to pin her to a cork board like a butterfly, but the pin merely went through and away she flew.

  Jerry Spinelli

  Flower, Butterfly, Mind

  Jerry Spinelli (2012). “The Stargirl Collection”, p.17, Knopf Books for Young Readers

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• In our bones we need the natural curves of hills, the scent of chaparral, the whisper of pines, the possibility of wildness.

  Richard Louv

  Nature, Curves, Needs

  Richard Louv (2013). “Last Child in the Woods: Saving our Children from Nature-Deficit Disorder”, p.202, Atlantic Books Ltd

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• Gone were but the Winter,
  Come were but the Spring,
  I would go to a covert
  Where the birds sing;
  
  Where in the whitethorn
  Singeth a thrush,
  And a robin sings
  In the holly-bush.
  
  Full of fresh scents
  Are the budding boughs
  Arching high over
  A cool green house:
  
  Full of sweet scents,
  And whispering air
  Which sayeth softly:
  We spread no snare;
  
  Here dwell in safety,
  Here dwell alone,
  With a clear stream
  And a mossy stone.
  
  Here the sun shineth
  Most shadily;
  Here is heard an echo
  Of the far sea,
  Though far off it be.

  Christina Rossetti

  Sweet, Spring, Winter

  Christina Rossetti (2008). “Poems and Prose”, p.11, OUP Oxford

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• Your happy songs bring to me the scent of Heaven. Please keep singing!

  Rumi

  Song, Carpe Diem, Heaven

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• It was a perfect spring afternoon, and the air was filled with vague, roving scents, as if the earth exhaled the sweetness of hidden flowers.

  Ellen Glasgow

  Spring, Flower, Air

  Ellen Glasgow (2016). “The Miller of Old Church”, p.224, The Floating Press

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• It was inevitable: the scent of bitter almonds always reminded him of the fate of unrequited love.

  Gabriel Garcia Marquez

  Unrequited Love, Fate, Almonds

  Gabriel Garcia Marquez (2014). “Living to Tell the Tale”, p.455, Penguin UK

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• I wonder that religion can live or die on the strength of a faint, stirring breeze. The scent trail shifts, causing the predator to miss the pounce. One god draws in the breath of life and rises; another god expires.

  Barbara Kingsolver

  Missing, Predator, Wonder

  Barbara Kingsolver (2008). “The Poisonwood Bible”, p.122, Faber & Faber

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• There was the blue sky above her and all those many roses, the ones that gave off the scent of cloves in the rain and the ones that left a trace of lemon on your fingers, the ones that were the color of blood, and those that were as white as clouds. Each one was sweeter than the next and as red as gemstones.

  Alice Hoffman

  Rain, Clouds, Blue

  Alice Hoffman (2001). “The River King”, p.169, Penguin Group

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• For one thing, I know every book of mine by its scent.

  George Gissing

  Book, Lovers, One Thing

  George Gissing (2016). “The Private Papers of Henry Ryecroft”, p.39, The Floating Press

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• But she couldn't dismiss easily his light touch with her. No pushing or pressing, none of that herding and corralling bullshit, unlike any of her old boyfriends. And maybe who you fell for and who you eventually loved wasn't rational, no matter how hard you tried to list pros and cons and sum the results. You couldn't think your way through it, not all the way. Maybe just the scent of somebody carried more weight than everything else put together.

  Charles Frazier

  Thinking, Light, Bullshit

  Charles Frazier (2011). “Nightwoods: A Novel”, p.154, Random House

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• Her partially open lips now opened wide, and her soft, fragrant tongue entered his mouth, where it began a relentless search for unformed words, for a secret code engraved there. Tengo's own tongue responded unconsciously to this movement and soon their tongues were like two young snakes in a spring meadow, newly wakened from their hibernation and hungrily intertwining, each led on by the other's scent.

  Haruki Murakami

  Spring, Snakes, Two

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• As an impoverished student I used to spend days out in Selfridges, nibbling on samples of free cheese and dousing myself with scent in the perfume department.

  Zoe Tapper

  Nibbling, Cheese, Students

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• I have Vie Luxe candles in every room. In 2006 I spent the month of August in Sardinia, and the scent reminds me of the wonderful time we had.

  Tamara Mellon

  August, Rooms, Months

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• Why can't you like me?" he said, his voice breaking. His scent steamed then, hot and heady with a welter of contradictions: apples and fire and electric roil of those cold, black shadows. "Why can't you like me just a little?" She would never know how she might have answered, because he never gave her the chance. Instead, he kissed her.

  Ilsa J. Bick

  Fire, Voice, Apples

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• When a dog is really comfortable, they give off a certain scent and you can smell it on their paws.

  Booboo Stewart

  Dog, Smell, Giving

  "Q&A: Teen player Booboo Stewart is latest 'Twilight' breakout". Interview with Robert Desalvo, www.mtv.com. November 15, 2011.

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• The larvae! The scent of young blood entices and draws them closer. There's no need to venture into antiquity to evoke the shades of the dead.

  Jean Lorrain

  Blood, Needs, Shade

  Jean Lorrain (1994). “Monsieur de Phocas”, Hippocrene Books

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• They leave things behind sometimes, the guests. A bottle of scent. A crumpled handkerchief. A pearl button that fell off a dress and rolled under a bed. And sometimes they leave other sorts of things. Things you can't see. A sigh trapped in a corner. Memories tangled in the curtains. A sob fluttering against the windowpane like a bird that flew in and can't get back out. I can feel these things. They dart and crouch and whisper.

  Jennifer Donnelly

  Memories, Tangled, Bird

  Jennifer Donnelly (2015). “A Gathering Light”, p.82, Bloomsbury Publishing

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• They had picked up Julie's scent hit wolfsbane lost her and found her trail again at the crumbling Highway 23 except it was two hours old and mixed with horse scents. She was hitchhiking. Great. Awesome. At least she always carried a knife with her. When I relayed this to Curran he shrugged and said, "If she kills anybody we'll make it go away.

  Ilona Andrews

  Horse, Knives, Two

  Ilona Andrews (2011). “Magic Slays”, p.88, Penguin

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• Long strands of drool stretched from between his fangs and dripped on the pavement, sending a heady scent of jasmine to swirl through the air. Perfumed monster spit. What was the world coming to?

  Ilona Andrews

  Air, Long, Monsters

  Ilona Andrews (2009). “Magic Strikes”, p.73, Penguin

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• I, too, often shrivel the grey shreds,Sniff them and think and sniff again and tryOnce more to think what it is I am remembering,Always in vain. I cannot like the scent,Yet I would rather give up others more sweet,With no meaning, than this bitter one.

  Edward Thomas

  Sweet, Giving Up, Thinking

  Edward Thomas (2013). “Delphi Complete Poetical Works of Edward Thomas (Illustrated)”, p.21, Delphi Classics

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• The scent of the sea, a wild turbulent storm, crashing into her mind. Elena, why is Dmitri naked?

  Nalini Singh

  Sea, Mind, Storm

  Nalini Singh (2012). “Nalini Singh: Guild Hunters Novels 1-4”, p.386, Penguin

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• Could I but lay my head in your lap, lass. Feel your hand on me, and sleep wi' the scent of you in my bed. Christ, Sassenach. I need ye.

  Diana Gabaldon

  Sleep, Hands, Needs

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