Smell Quotes - Page 31

• Annabeth looked at me. " We have to get out of here." " You think I want to be in the girls' restroom?" " I mean the ship, Percy! We have to get off the ship." " Smells bad," Tyson agreed. " And dogs eat all the eggs. Annabeth is right. We must leave the restroom and the ship.

  Rick Riordan

  Girl, Dog, Mean

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

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• They lay on their heathery beds and listened to all the sounds of the night. They heard the little grunt of a hedgehog going by. They saw the flicker of bats overhead. They smelt the drifting scent of honeysuckle, and the delicious smell of wild thyme crushed under their bodies. A reed-warbler sang a beautiful little song in the reeds below, and then another answered.

  Enid Blyton

  Beautiful, Song, Night

  Enid Blyton (2016). “The Secret Island”, p.27, Hachette UK

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• The smell of the sea swept over the wall and in through the empty window-hole, wide and wild with a million intoxicating secrets. I don't trust that smell. It hooks us somewhere deeper than reason or civilization, in the fragments of our cells that rocked in oceans before we had minds, and it pulls till we follow mindlessly as rutting animals....It lures us to leap off high cliffs, fling ourselves on towering waves, leaves behind everyone we love and face into thousands of miles of open water for the sake of what might be on the far shore.

  Tana French

  Wall, Ocean, Animal

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• Please, Percy...change your clothes. You smell like you've been run over by an electric horse.

  Rick Riordan

  Running, Horse, Clothes

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• There would seem to be nothing more obvious, more tangible and palpable than the present moment. And yet it eludes us completely. All the sadness of life lies in that fact. In the course of a single second, our senses of sight, of hearing, of smell, register (knowingly or not) a swarm of events and a parade of sensations and ideas passes through our head. Each instant represents a little universe, irrevocably forgotten in the next instant.

  Milan Kundera

  Lying, Sadness, Elude Us

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• The coffee shop smell was strong enough to build a garage on.

  Raymond Chandler

  Strong, Coffee, Enough

  Raymond Chandler (2011). “The Big Sleep & Farewell, My Lovely”, p.369, Modern Library

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• Leo drummed his fingers. “Great. I should have installed a smoke screen that makes the ship smell like a giant chicken nugget. Remind me to invent that, next time.” Hazel frowned. “What is a chicken nugget?” “Oh, man…” Leo shook his head in amazement. “That's right. You’ve missed the last, like, seventy years. Well, my apprentice, a chicken nugget—” “Doesn’t matter,” Annabeth interrupted.

  Rick Riordan

  Men, Should Have, Years

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• He nuzzled my neck, inhaling deeply. “Mmm. You smell so good.” “Oh, yeah,” I said, smirking. “I call this new perfume ‘Le Jungle grime et tropical BO.’ ” “Dirt and sweat. Very sexy.

  James Patterson

  Sexy, Sweat, Dirt

  James Patterson (2012). “Maximum Ride: Nevermore”, p.297, Random House

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• The smell of loving is a difficult one to describe, but if you think of the times when someone has held you close and made you safe, you will remember how it smells just as well as I do.

  Catherynne M. Valente

  Thinking, Safe, Remember

  Catherynne M. Valente (2014). “The Fairyland Series”, p.354, Macmillan

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• The sound of her laughter was sticky as sap, the smell of night-blooming jasmine soft as a milk bath.

  Janet Fitch

  Laughter, Night, Sound

  Janet Fitch (2013). “White Oleander”, p.134, Hachette UK

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• 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.

  Janet Fitch

  Confused, Coffee, Hair

  Janet Fitch (2013). “White Oleander”, p.162, Hachette UK

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• I love the sound of it," Trina whispers, as if speaking too loudly might interrupt the drumming patter of the rain outside. "It makes me want to sleep. Snuggle my head right up in your armpit and snore for three days." "My armpit?" Mark repeats. "Good thing we all showered up in the storm this morning. My pits smell like roses. Go ahead and get comfy.

  James Dashner

  Morning, Rain, Sleep

  James Dashner (2013). “The Kill Order”, p.231, Chicken House

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• Time for Wine Tasting 101. “So here’s how this works. When tasting a wine, as opposed to casual drinking, there are four basic steps you need to remember: sight, smell, taste, then spit or swallow.” Nick paused at that last part and cocked his head. “And your personal preference on the latter would be…?” “Only lightweights spit.” His right eye twitched.

  Julie James

  Drinking, Wine, Eye

  Julie James (2011). “A Lot Like Love”, p.67, Penguin

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• If someone smells a flower and says he does not understand, the reply to him is: there is nothing to understand, it is only a scent. If he persists, saying: that I know, but what does it all mean? Then one has either to change the subject, or make it more abstruse by saying that the scent is the shape which the universal joy takes in the flower.

  Rabindranath Tagore

  Flower, Mean, Joy

  Rabindranath Tagore (2010). “My Life In My Words”, p.10, Penguin UK

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• Electronic books are ideal for people who value the information contained in them, or who have vision problems, or who like to read on the subway, or who do not want other people to see how they are amusing themselves, or who have storage and clutter issues, but they are useless for people who are engaged in an intense, lifelong love affair with books. Books that we can touch; books that we can smell; books that we can depend on.

  Joe Queenan

  Love, Book, Issues

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• The circus looks abandoned and empty. But you think perhaps you can smell caramel wafting through the evening breeze, beneath the crisp scent of the autumn leaves. A subtle sweetness at the edges of the cold.

  Erin Morgenstern

  Autumn, Thinking, Looks

  "The Night Circus". Book by Erin Morgenstern, September 13, 2011.

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• The clothes are packed off to Goodwill I said my good-byes up on the hill The house is empty, the furniture sold Soon your smell will decay to mold Don't know why I bother calling, ain't nobody answering Don't know why I bother singing, ain't nobody listening "Disconnect" Collateral Damage, Track 10

  Gayle Forman

  Bye, Clothes, Track

  Gayle Forman (2011). “Where She Went”, p.48, Penguin

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• There is something very shocking about seeing him standing dark and still on our doorstep. I lean the door a ways. The night's getting chilly. "You got away from the yard." "Is it still all right?" "It's all right. It's me and Gabe and Finn and Tommy Falk." "I've brought this." He holds up the bread, which is clearly a Palson's loaf, and it's still so fresh that I can smell the warmth of it. He must've come straight from there.

  Maggie Stiefvater

  Dark, Night, Doors

  Maggie Stiefvater (2011). “The Scorpio Races”, p.311, Scholastic UK

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• Chili dogs, funnel cakes, fried bread, majorly greasy pizza, candy apples, ye gods. Evil food smells amazing -- which is either proof that there is a Satan or some equivalent out there, or that the Almighty doesn't actually want everyone to eat organic tofu all the time. I can't decide.

  Jim Butcher

  Dog, Cake, Apples

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• There is no shame in loving. If your septons say there is, your seven gods must be demons. In the isles we know better. Our gods gave us legs to run with, noses to smell with, hands to touch and feel. What mad cruel god would give a man eyes and tell him he must forever keep them shut, and never look at all the beauty in the world? Only a monster god, a demon of the darkness.

  George R. R. Martin

  Running, Eye, Men

  "A Feast for Crows". Book by George R. R. Martin, 2005.

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• The sun's nearly level with the horizon, right behind his head, making this weird halo effect around his face—as if! I'm surprised he doesn't smell like brimstone. He probably has a red pitchfork and hides horns under his hair.

  Karen Marie Moning

  Hair, Horizon, Levels

  Karen Marie Moning (2016). “The Fever Series 7-Book Bundle: Darkfever, Bloodfever, Faefever, Dreamfever, Shadowfever, Iced, Burned”, p.1727, Dell

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• After a sleepless night the body gets weaker, It becomes dear and not yours - and nobody's. Just like a seraph you smile to people And arrows moan in the slow arteries. After a sleepless night the arms get weaker And deeply equal to you are the friend and foe. Smells like Florence in the frost, and in each Sudden sound is the whole rainbow. Tenderly light the lips, and the shadow's golden Near the sunken eyes. Here the night has sparked This brilliant likeness - and from the dark night Only just one thing - the eyes - are growing dark.

  Marina Tsvetaeva

  Eye, Dark, Night

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• But it was smell that carried memory.

  Ann Brashares

  Memories

  Ann Brashares (2010). “My Name is Memory”, p.81, Penguin

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• Rehv swooped down with his long arms and gathered her up against him, tucking her with vital care to his chest. Ducking his head to hers, his voice was deep and grave. "I never thought I would see you again." As he shuddered, she lifted her hands up to his torso. After holding herself back for a moment...she embraced him as fully as he did her. "You smell the same," she said rought, putting her nose right into the collar of his fine silk shirt. "Oh...God, you smell the same.

  J.R. Ward

  Hands, Voice, Long

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• I hope I never smell the smell of apples again!" said Fili. "My tub was full of ut. To smell apples everlastingly when you can scarcely move and are cold and sick with hunger is maddening. I could eat anything in the wide world now for hours on end - but not an apple!

  J. R. R. Tolkien

  Moving, Apples, Sick

  J.R.R. Tolkien (2012). “The Hobbit”, p.77, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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