Smell Quotes - Page 19

• If you admire somebody, you should go ahead and tell them. People never get the flowers while they can still smell them.

  Kanye West

  Flower, Rapper, People

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• Of lovers whose bodies smell of each other Who think the same thoughts without need of speech

  T. S. Eliot

  Thinking, Needs, Body

  T.S. Eliot (2015). “The Poems of T. S. Eliot Volume I: Collected and Uncollected Poems”, p.219, Faber & Faber

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• The written word is weak. Many people prefer life to it. Life gets your blood going, & it smells good. Writing is mere writing, literature is mere. It appeals only to the subtlest senses—the imagination’s vision, & the imagination’s hearing—& the moral sense, & the intellect. This writing that you do, that so thrills you, that so rocks & exhilarates you, as if you were dancing next to the band, is barely audible to anyone else.

  Annie Dillard

  Writing, Blood, Rocks

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• Then the sun broke above the crest of the hills and the entire countryside looked soaked in blood, the arroyos deep in shadow, the cones of dead volcanoes stark and biscuit-colored against the sky. I could smell pinion trees, wet sage, woodsmoke, cattle in the pastures, and creek water that had melted from snow. I could smell the way the country probably was when it was only a dream in the mind of God.

  James Lee Burke

  Dream, Country, Volcanoes

  James Lee Burke (2007). “Jesus Out to Sea: Stories”, p.54, Simon and Schuster

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• The honest and good man ought to be exactly like a man who smells strong, so that the bystander as soon as he comes near him must smell whether he choose or not.

  Marcus Aurelius

  Strong, Men, Bystanders

  MARCUS AURELIUS ANTONINUS “MARCUS AURELIUS ANTONINUS”

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• This day will never come again and anyone who fails to eat and drink and taste and smell it will never have it offered to him again in all eternity. The sun will never shine as it does today...But you must play your part and sing a song, one of your best.

  Hermann Hesse

  Inspirational, Encouraging, Song

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• It's like the smell of burned toast. You made the toast. You looked forward to it. You even enjoyed making it, but it burned. What were you doing? Was it your fault? It doesn't matter anymore. You open the window, but only the very top layer of the smell goes away. The rest remains around you. It's the walls. You leave the room, but it's on your clothes. You change your clothes, but it's in your hair. It's on the thin skin on the tops of your hand. And in the morning, it's still there.

  Elliot Perlman

  Morning, Wall, Hair

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• It’s a funny thing coming home. Nothing changes. Everything looks the same, feels the same, even smells the same. You realize what’s changed, is you.

  Eric Roth

  Home, Funny Things, Looks

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• The Cicada sing an endless song in the long grass, smells run along the earth and falling stars run over the sky, like tears over a cheek. You are the privileged person to whom everything is taken. The Kings of Tarshish shall bring gifts.

  Isak Dinesen

  Running, Song, Kings

  Isak Dinesen (1987). “Out of Africa”, Crown Pub

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• oh you do smell good.

  Stephenie Meyer

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• I want morning and noon and nightfall with you. I want your tears, your smiles, your kisses...the smell of your hair, the taste of your skin, the touch of your breath on my face. I want to see you in the final hour of my life...to lie in your arms as I take my last breath.

  Lisa Kleypas

  Love, Morning, Lying

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• Memory warps time, as it does the sights and sounds and smells of reality; for what shapes it is emotion, which can twist what seems clear, just as the surface of a pond seems to bend the stick thrust into the water.

  Sherwood Smith

  Memories, Reality, Sight

  Sherwood Smith (1997). “Crown Duel”, p.182, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• In case you're wondering, the underside of a sheep doesn't smell that great. Imagine a winter sweater that's been dragged through the mud and left in the laundry hamper for a week. Something like that.

  Rick Riordan

  Winter, Sheep, Sweaters

  Rick Riordan (2007). “The Sea of Monsters”, Disney-Hyperion

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• Zombies smell worse than anything you can imagine if you haven’t been hunting things on the dark side of the world. It’s a ripe, gassy odour, like rotting eggs and meat gone bad, crawling blind with maggots. It’s road kill and decayed food and body odour all rolled into one package and tied up with puke.

  Lilith Saintcrow

  Dark, Hunting, Eggs

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• I wish we could spend July by the sea, browning ourselves and feeling water-weighted hair flow behind us from a dive. I wish our gravest concerns were the summer gnats. I wish we were hungry for hot dogs and dopes, and it would be nice to smell the starch of summer linens and the faint odor of talc in blistering summer bath houses ... We could lie in long citoneuse beams of the five o'clock sun on the plage at Juan-les-Pins and hear the sound of the drum and piano being scooped out to sea by the waves.

  Zelda Fitzgerald

  Summer, Dog, Lying

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• Throughout his life, Albert Einstein would retain the intuition and the awe of a child. He never lost his sense of wonder at the magic of nature's phenomena-magnetic fields, gravity, inertia, acceleration, light beams-which grown-ups find so commonplace. He retained the ability to hold two thoughts in his mind simultaneously, to be puzzled when they conflicted, and to marvel when he could smell an underlying unity. "People like you and me never grow old," he wrote a friend later in life. "We never cease to stand like curious children before the great mystery into which we were born.

  Walter Isaacson

  Children, Light, Later In Life

  Walter Isaacson (2008). “Einstein: His Life and Universe”, p.40, Simon and Schuster

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• Purple light passed over the paper, but nothing happened. "Next!" Amy said. She was sure the man in black was going to burst in on them any second. "Whoa!" Dan said. Amy gripped his arm. "You found it?" "No, but look! This whole essay - 'To the Royal Academy.' He wrote a whole essay on farts!" Dan grinned with delight. "He's proposing a scientific study on different fart smells. You're right, Amy. This guy was a genius!

  Rick Riordan

  Men, Purple, Light

  Rick Riordan (2016). “The 39 Clues 1: The 39 Clues: The Maze of Bones”, p.86, Scholastic UK

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• She lights a match in the dark hall and moves it onto the wick of the candle. Light lifts itself onto her shoulders. She is on her knees. She puts her hands on her thighs and breathes in the smell of the sulphur. She imagines she slap breathes in light.

  Michael Ondaatje

  Moving, Dark, Light

  Michael Ondaatje (2011). “The English Patient”, p.14, Vintage

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• He was a super shiny boy and I liked the shape of him. Under the blanket. In the shower. I liked his shadow on the street and his imprint on the sofa. I hated the smell of hair gel on his head, but I loved it on the pillow. I love the smell of losing someone.

  Emma Forrest

  Boys, Hair, Losing Someone

  Emma Forrest (2014). “Namedropper”, p.11, Bloomsbury Publishing

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• I've just been playing the Trout Quintet on the phonograph. Listening to the andantino makes me want to be a trout myself. You can't help rejoicing and laughing, however moved or sad you feel, when you see the springtime clouds in the sky, the budding branches, moved by the wind, in the bright early sunlight. I'm really looking forward to the spring again. In that piece of Schubert's you can positively feel and smell the breeze and hear the birds and the whole of creation shouting for joy.

  Sophie Scholl

  Spring, Clouds, Wind

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• Darius didn't have any trouble finding the Street Cats building. It was a cozy-looking square brick building with big front windows crowded with cat stuff. I made a mental note to pick up a little something for Nala from their gift shop. My cat was grumpy enough without her thinking that I'd been cheating on her (translation: I would smell like a zillion other cats) and hadn't even brought her a present.

  P. C. Cast

  Cheating, Cat, Thinking

  P. C. Cast, Kristin Cast (2010). “Untamed: A House of Night Novel”, p.145, Macmillan

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• As I walked, I ran my fingers along the spines of hundreds of books. I let myself be imbued with the smell, with the light that filtered through the cracks or from the glass lanterns embedded in the wooden structure, floating among mirrors and shadows.

  Carlos Ruiz Zafon

  Book, Glasses, Mirrors

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• Then I smell the sweat on him, a clean musky scent that I'd bottle and wear as perfume if I could.

  Gayle Forman

  Sweat, Bottles, Scent

  Gayle Forman (2009). “If I Stay”, p.109, Penguin

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• Spring TO what purpose, April, do you return again? Beauty is not enough. You can no longer quiet me with the redness Of little leaves opening stickily. I know what I know. The sun is hot on my neck as I observe The spikes of the crocus. The smell of the earth is good. It is apparent that there is no death. But what does that signify? Not only under ground are the brains of men Eaten by maggots. Life in itself Is nothing, An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs. It is not enough that yearly, down this hill, April Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

  Edna St. Vincent Millay

  Spring, Flower, Men

  Edna St. Vincent Millay (2009). “Second April: Easyread Super Large 18pt Edition”, p.1, ReadHowYouWant.com

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• 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.

  Neal Shusterman

  Mom, Teenager, Butterfly

  Neal Shusterman (2006). “The Schwa was here”

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