Explore Quotes on Smell

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.

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?

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.

All fresh meat is eaten in a state of decay. The process may not have proceeded so far that the dull human nose can discover it, but a carrion bird or a carrion fly can smell it from afar.

I can smell burning flesh... and I hope to God it's human.

Fish is the only food that is considered spoiled once it smells like what it is.

The smell of the sea, of kelp and fish and bitter moving water, rose stronger in my nostrils. It flooded my consciousness like an ancestral memory. The swells rose sluggishly and fell away, casting up dismal gleams between the boards of the pier. And the whole pier rose and fell in stiff and creaking mimicry, dancing its long slow dance of dissolution. I reached the end and saw no one, heard nothing but my footsteps and the creak of the beams, the slap of waves on the pilings. It was a fifteen-foot drop to the dim water. The nearest land ahead of me was Hawaii.

The shadow-past is shaped by everything that never happened. Invisible, it melts the present like rain through karst. A biography of longing. It steers us like magnetism, a spirit torque. This is how one becomes undone by a smell, a word, a place, the photo of a mountain of shoes. By love that closes its mouth before calling a name.

I know every book of mine by its smell, and I have but to put my nose_x000D_between the pages to be reminded of all sorts of things.

Smell is the primordial sense, more powerful, more primitive, more intimately tied to our memories and emotions than any other. A scent can trigger spiritual, emotional or physical peace and stimulate healing and wellness.

An honest god is the noblest work of man. ... God has always resembled his _x000D_creators. He hated and loved what they hated and loved and he was invariably _x000D_found on the side of those in power. ... Most of the gods were pleased with _x000D_sacrifice, and the smell of innocent blood has ever been considered a divine _x000D_perfume.

The empathic understanding of the experience of other human beings is as basic an endowment of man as his vision, hearing, touch, taste and smell

They say that a cat, if it falls from a window and_x000D_ hits its nose, can lose its sense of smell and then, because cats live by_x000D_ their ability to smell, it can no longer recognize things. I'm a cat that hit_x000D_ its nose.

The woman who loves always smells good.

The Sixties were an era of extreme reality. I miss the smell of tear gas. I miss the fear of getting beaten.

I am inside someone_x000D_who hates me. I look_x000D_out from his eyes. Smell_x000D_what fouled tunes come in_x000D_to his breath. Love his_x000D_wretched women.

The magic of purpose and of love in its purest form. Not televison love, with its glare and hollow and sequined glint; not sex and allure, all high shoes and high drama, everything both too small and in too much excess, but just love. Love like rain, like the smell of a tangerine, like a surprise found in your pocket.

I have these surreal moments where I’m like ‘I’m pregnant with Jake Gyllenhaal’s baby’ and ‘I’m telling Robert Pattinson that he smells of sex.’ But you’re acting, so the focus is on the work.

The author O. Henry taught me about the value of the unexpected. He once wrote about the noise of flowers and the smell of birds—the birds were chickens and the flowers dried sunflowers rattling against a wall.

Smell and taste differentiate, whereas language, like sight and hearing, integrates.

We know that art is connected with the land, with its salt, with its smell, that outside of national culture there is no art. Cosmopolitanism - a world in which things lose their color and form, and words lose their significance. We love in our past all that we consider native, wonderful and fair.