Who has smelled the woodsmoke at twilight, who has seen the campfire burning, who is quick to read the noises of the night?
It was good to walk into a library again; it smelled like home.
It smelled pretty rank, but I was getting used to the smell of death, as much as anyone could get used to it.
Demosthenes, when taunted by Pytheas that all his arguments "smelled of the lamp," replied, "Yes, but your lamp and mine, my friend, do not witness the same labours.
Any woman who is currently with a man is with him partly because she loves the way he smells. And if we haven't smelled you for a day or two and then we suddenly are within inches of you, we swoon. We get light-headed. It's intoxicating. It's heady.
I've never seen, heard, nor smelled an issue that was so dangerous it couldn't be talked about. Hell yes, I'm for debating anything!
Just like an alley in New York -like every alley in the world, apparently- it smelled like cat pee.
It always smelled like it was raining outside, even if it wasn't, and you were in the only nice, dry, cosy place in the world.
The air smelled of paper and dust and years.
The room was darker and smelled of evergreen, as though my mother had been dreaming of trees.
I found the candles—atrocious air freshening ones that smelled like fake pine.
In the dark beside me, she smelled of sweat and sunshine and vanilla.
The inside of the old Camaro smelled like asphalt and desire, gasoline and dreams.
I am convinced that Nigeria would have been a more highly developed country without the oil. I wished we'd never smelled the fumes of petroleum.
Inside, my soul became so cold I hated everything. I even despised the sun, for I knew I would never be able to play in its warm presence. I cringed with hate whenever I heard other children laughing, as they played outside. My stomach coiled whenever I smelled food that was about to be served to somebody else, knowing it wasn't for me.
I know there is a God because in Rwanda I shook hands with the devil. I have seen him, I have smelled him and I have touched him. I know the devil exists and therefore I know there is a God.
Caddy smelled like trees.
Ideas come from the Earth. They come from every human experience that you’ve either witnessed or have heard about, translated into your brain in your own sense of dialogue, in your own language form. Ideas are born from what is smelled, heard, seen, experienced, felt, emotionalized. Ideas are probably in the air, like little tiny items of ozone.
She smelled like herself, like the wind through a tree.
Her clothes still smoked from the wizard’s assault. But to him, she always smelled of flowers.