Quotes about scent
page 2

James Russell Lowell photo

“It ain't by princerples nor men
My preudunt course is steadied—
I scent wich pays the best, an' then
Go into it baldheaded.”

James Russell Lowell (1819–1891) American poet, critic, editor, and diplomat

No. 6, st. 10
The Biglow Papers (1848–1866), Series I (1848)

Helen Hunt Jackson photo
Robert Frost photo

“The buzz saw snarled and rattled in the yard
And made dust and dropped stove-length sticks of wood,
Sweet-scented stuff when the breeze drew across it.”

Robert Frost (1874–1963) American poet

" Out, Out — http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/out-out-2/"
1910s

Sinclair Lewis photo
African Spir photo
Nguyễn Du photo
P.G. Wodehouse photo
Jerome K. Jerome photo
Alfred Noyes photo
Robert Seymour Bridges photo

“I have loved flowers that fade,
Within whose magic tents
Rich hues have marriage made
With sweet unmemoried scents:
A honeymoon delight,
A joy of love at sight,
That ages in an hour
My song be like a flower!”

Robert Seymour Bridges (1844–1930) British writer

Bk. II, No. 13, I Have Loved Flowers That Fade http://www.poetry-online.org/bridges_i_have_loved_flowers_that_fade.htm, st. 1 (1879).
Shorter Poems (1879-1893)

Ursula K. Le Guin photo
John Muir photo

“Winds are advertisements of all they touch, however much or little we may be able to read them; telling their wanderings even by their scents alone.”

John Muir (1838–1914) Scottish-born American naturalist and author

Source: 1890s, The Mountains of California (1894), chapter 10: A Wind-Storm in the Forests

Guillaume de Salluste Du Bartas photo

“Soft carpet-knights, all scenting musk and amber.”

Guillaume de Salluste Du Bartas (1544–1590) French writer

Second Week, Third Day, Part i. Compare: "As much valour is to be found in feasting as in fighting, and some of our city captains and carpet knights will make this good, and prove it", Robert Burton, Anatomy of Melancholy, Part i, Section 2, Membrane 2, Subsection 2.
La Seconde Semaine (1584)

George Eliot photo
Charles Baudelaire photo

“A man who from the beginning has long been soaked in the languid atmosphere of a woman, the scent of her hands, her bosom, her knees, her hair, her lithe and flowing clothes,Sweet bath, suavely
Scented with ointments,has acquired a delicacy of skin, a refinement of tone, a kind of androgyny without which the toughest and most virile of geniuses remains, when it comes to artistic perfection, an incomplete being.”

<p>L’homme qui, dès le commencement, a été longtemps baigné dans la molle atmosphère de la femme, dans l’odeur de ses mains, de son sein, de ses genoux, de sa chevelure, de ses vêtements souples et flottants,</p><p>Dulce balneum suavibus
Unguentatum odoribus,</p><p>y a contracté une délicatesse d’épiderme et une distinction d’accent, une espèce d’androgynéité, sans lesquelles le génie le plus âpre et le plus viril reste, relativement à la perfection dans l’art, un être incomplet.</p>
"Un mangeur d'opium," VII: Chagrins d'enfance http://fr.wikisource.org/wiki/Les_Paradis_artificiels_-_II#VII_CHAGRINS_D.E2.80.99ENFANCE
Les paradis artificiels (1860)

Tulsidas photo

“He walks without legs,
hears without ears,
does all the deeds without hands.
He enjoys all the juices without a mouth,
spells all the truth without a voice,
touches everything without hands.
He see very object without eyes
and inhales all the scents without a breath.”

Tulsidas (1532–1623) Hindu poet-saint

Tulsidas’s definition of God in verse quoted in A Garden of Deeds: Ramacharitmanas, a Message of Human Ethics http://books.google.co.in/books?id=5em1y2PczVgC&pg=PA36, p. 36

Bruno Schulz photo
Alfred Noyes photo
Dejan Stojanovic photo

“Every scent is the sun’s scent.”

“The Land,” p. p. 91
The Creator (2000), Sequence: “Nostalgic Elements”

Graham Greene photo
Peter Greenaway photo
Anthony Burgess photo
Shaun Ellis photo
Ayumi Hamasaki photo
Jerome K. Jerome photo

“I can understand the ignorant masses loving to soak themselves in drink—oh, yes, it's very shocking that they should, of course—very shocking to us who live in cozy homes, with all the graces and pleasures of life around us, that the dwellers in damp cellars and windy attics should creep from their dens of misery into the warmth and glare of the public-house bar, and seek to float for a brief space away from their dull world upon a Lethe stream of gin. But think, before you hold up your hands in horror at their ill-living, what "life" for these wretched creatures really means. Picture the squalid misery of their brutish existence, dragged on from year to year in the narrow, noisome room where, huddled like vermin in sewers, they welter, and sicken, and sleep; where dirt-grimed children scream and fight and sluttish, shrill-voiced women cuff, and curse, and nag; where the street outside teems with roaring filth and the house around is a bedlam of riot and stench. Think what a sapless stick this fair flower of life must be to them, devoid of mind and soul. The horse in his stall scents the sweet hay and munches the ripe corn contentedly. The watch-dog in his kennel blinks at the grateful sun, dreams of a glorious chase over the dewy fields, and wakes with a yelp of gladness to greet a caressing hand. But the clod-like life of these human logs never knows one ray of light. From the hour when they crawl from their comfortless bed to the hour when they lounge back into it again they never live one moment of real life. Recreation, amusement, companionship, they know not the meaning of. Joy, sorrow, laughter, tears, love, friendship, longing, despair, are idle words to them. From the day when their baby eyes first look out upon their sordid world to the day when, with an oath, they close them forever and their bones are shoveled out of sight, they never warm to one touch of human sympathy, never thrill to a single thought, never start to a single hope. In the name of the God of mercy; let them pour the maddening liquor down their throats and feel for one brief moment that they live!”

Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow (1886)

Charles Baudelaire photo

“It is imagination that has taught man the moral sense of color, of contour, of sound and of scent. It created, in the beginning of the world, analogy and metaphor. It disassembles creation, and with materials gathered and arranged by rules whose origin is only to be found in the very depths of the soul, it creates a new world, it produces the sensation of the new. As it has created the world (this can be said, I believe, even in the religious sense), it is just that it should govern it.”

Charles Baudelaire (1821–1867) French poet

C'est l'imagination qui a enseigné à l'homme le sens moral de la couleur, du contour, du son et du parfum. Elle a créé, au commencement du monde, l'analogie et la métaphore. Elle décompose toute la création, et, avec les matériaux amassés et disposés suivant des règles dont on ne peut trouver l'origine que dans le plus profond de l'âme, elle crée un monde nouveau, elle produit la sensation du neuf. Comme elle a créé le monde (on peut bien dire cela, je crois, même dans un sens religieux), il est juste qu'elle le gouverne.
"Lettres à M. le Directeur de La revue française," III: La reine des facultés http://fr.wikisource.org/wiki/Salon_de_1859_%28Curiosit%C3%A9s_esth%C3%A9tiques%29#III._.E2.80.94_La_reine_des_facult.C3.A9s
Salon de 1859 (1859)

John Galsworthy photo
Vinko Vrbanić photo
James K. Morrow photo
T. E. Lawrence photo

“The common base of all the Semitic creeds, winners or losers, was the ever present idea of world-worthlessness. Their profound reaction from matter led them to preach bareness, renunciation, poverty; and the atmosphere of this invention stifled the minds of the desert pitilessly. A first knowledge of their sense of the purity of rarefaction was given me in early years, when we had ridden far out over the rolling plains of North Syria to a ruin of the Roman period which the Arabs believed was made by a prince of the border as a desert-palace for his queen. The clay of its building was said to have been kneaded for greater richness, not with water, but with the precious essential oils of flowers. My guides, sniffing the air like dogs, led me from crumbling room to room, saying, 'This is jessamine, this violet, this rose'. But at last Dahoum drew me: 'Come and smell the very sweetest scent of all', and we went into the main lodging, to the gaping window sockets of its eastern face, and there drank with open mouths of the effortless, empty, eddyless wind of the desert, throbbing past. That slow breath had been born somewhere beyond the distant Euphrates and had dragged its way across many days and nights of dead grass, to its first obstacle, the man-made walls of our broken palace. About them it seemed to fret and linger, murmuring in baby-speech. 'This,' they told me, 'is the best: it has no taste.”

My Arabs were turning their backs on perfumes and luxuries to choose the things in which mankind had had no share or part.
Source: Seven Pillars of Wisdom (1922), Ch. 3

Marc Bloch photo

“The good historian is like the giant of the fairy tale. He knows that wherever he catches the scent of human flesh, there his quarry lies.”

Marc Bloch (1886–1944) French historian, medievalist, and historiographer

The Historian's Craft, pg.26

Arthur Waley photo

“Think not that I have come in quest of common flowers; but rather to bemoan the loss of one whose scent has vanished from the air.”

Arthur Waley (1889–1966) British academic

Source: Translations, The Tale of Genji (1925–1933), Ch. 41: 'Mirage'

Kate Bush photo

“She sent him scented letters,
And he received them with a strange delight.
Just like his wife
But how she was before the tears,
And how she was before the years flew by,
And how she was when she was beautiful.”

Kate Bush (1958) British recording artist; singer, songwriter, musician and record producer

Source: Song lyrics, Never for Ever (1980)

George Eliot photo
Chris Carrabba photo
Maggie Stiefvater photo
Kamala Surayya photo
Murasaki Shikibu photo
William Cowper photo

“Pernicious weed! whose scent the fair annoys,
Unfriendly to society's chief joys,
Thy worst effect is banishing for hours
The sex whose presence civilizes ours.”

William Cowper (1731–1800) (1731–1800) English poet and hymnodist

Source: Conversation (1782), Line 251.

Shaun Ellis photo
Igor Stravinsky photo

“One has a nose. The nose scents and it chooses. An artist is simply a kind of pig snouting truffles.”

Igor Stravinsky (1882–1971) Russian composer, pianist and conductor

1962, quoted in Andriessen and Schoenberger, The Apollonian Clockwork (1989). Oxford: Oxford University Press.
1960s

Nathaniel Hawthorne photo
Roald Amundsen photo
Letitia Elizabeth Landon photo
William Cowper photo
Sadegh Hedayat photo
Filippo Tommaso Marinetti photo

“11. We shall sing the great masses shaken with work, pleasure, or rebellion: we shall sing the multicolored and polyphonic tidal waves of revolution in the modern metropolis; shall sing the vibrating nocturnal fervor of factories and shipyards burning under violent electrical moons; bloated railroad stations that devour smoking serpents; factories hanging from the sky by the twisting threads of spiraling smoke; bridges like gigantic gymnasts who span rivers, flashing at the sun with the gleam of a knife; adventurous steamships that scent the horizon, locomotives with their swollen chest, pawing the tracks like massive steel horses bridled with pipes, and the oscillating flight of airplanes, whose propeller flaps at the wind like a flag and seems to applaud like a delirious crowd.”

Filippo Tommaso Marinetti (1876–1944) Italian poet and editor, founder of the Futurist movement

Original Italian text:
Noi canteremo le grandi folle agitate dal lavoro, dal piacere o dalla sommossa: canteremo le maree multicolori e polifoniche delle rivoluzioni nelle capitali moderne; canteremo il vibrante fervore notturno degli arsenali e dei cantieri incendiati da violente lune elettriche; le stazioni ingorde, divoratrici di serpi che fumano; le officine appese alle nuvole pei contorti fili dei loro fumi; i ponti simili a ginnasti giganti che scavalcano i fiumi, balenanti al sole con un luccichio di coltelli; i piroscafi avventurosi che fiutano l'orizzonte, le locomotive dall'ampio petto, che scalpitano sulle rotaie, come enormi cavalli d'acciaio imbrigliati di tubi, e il volo scivolante degli aereoplani, la cui elica garrisce al vento come una bandiera e sembra applaudire come una folla entusiasta.
Source: 1900's, The Founding and Manifesto of Futurism' 1909, p. 52 : Last bullet-item in THE MANIFESTO OF FUTURISM

Francis Thompson photo

“The fairest things have fleetest end,
Their scent survives their close:
But the rose's scent is bitterness
To him that loved the rose.”

Francis Thompson (1859–1907) British poet

Daisy http://www.bartleby.com/103/26.html (1893), st. 10.

Bawa Muhaiyaddeen photo
Agatha Christie photo
Octave Mirbeau photo

“Nature’s constantly screaming with all its shapes and scents: love each other! Love each other! Do as the flowers. There’s only love.”

Octave Mirbeau (1848–1917) French journalist, art critic, travel writer, pamphleteer, novelist, and playwright

Garden of Tortures

Clifford D. Simak photo

“I have tried to imagine … the various ingredients one might wish to compound in such a package. Beside the bare experience itself, the context of it, one might say, he should want to capture and hold all the subsidiary factors which might serve as a background for it — the sound, the feel of wind and sun, the cloud floating in the sky, the color and the scent. For such a packaging, to give the desired results, must be as perfect as one can make it. It must have all those elements which would be valuable in invoking the total recall of some event that had taken place many years before…”

Cemetery World (1973)
Context: I find it a most intriguing and amusing thing that it might be possible to package the experiences, not only of one's self, but of other people. Think of the hoard we might then lay up against our later, lonely years when all old friends are gone and the opportunity for new experiences have withered. All we need to do then is to reach up to a shelf and take down a package that we have bottled or preserved or whatever the phrase might be, say from a hundred years ago, and uncorking it, enjoy the same experience again, as sharp and fresh as the first time it had happened... I have tried to imagine... the various ingredients one might wish to compound in such a package. Beside the bare experience itself, the context of it, one might say, he should want to capture and hold all the subsidiary factors which might serve as a background for it — the sound, the feel of wind and sun, the cloud floating in the sky, the color and the scent. For such a packaging, to give the desired results, must be as perfect as one can make it. It must have all those elements which would be valuable in invoking the total recall of some event that had taken place many years before...

Alfred Noyes photo

“One, we are one with the song to-day,
One with the clover that scents the world,
One with the Unknown, far away,
One with the stars, when earth grows old.”

Alfred Noyes (1880–1958) English poet

Unity, § II
The Golden Hynde and Other Poems (1914)
Context: Heart of my heart, we cannot die!
Love triumphant in flower and tree,
Every life that laughs at the sky
Tells us nothing can cease to be:
One, we are one with the song to-day,
One with the clover that scents the world,
One with the Unknown, far away,
One with the stars, when earth grows old.

Ian Fleming photo

“The scent and smoke and sweat of a casino are nauseating at three in the morning.”

Opening line, Ch. 1 : The Secret Agent
Casino Royale (1953)
Context: The scent and smoke and sweat of a casino are nauseating at three in the morning. Then the soul erosion produced by high gambling — a compost of greed and fear and nervous tension — becomes unbearable and the senses awake and revolt from it.

Daniel Abraham photo

“The rich scent of well-balanced soil was like incense.”

Daniel Abraham (1969) speculative fiction writer from the United States

Source: Caliban's War (2012), Chapter 7 (p. 76)

Andrew Dice Clay photo
Imru' al-Qais photo

“Fair were they also, diffusing the odor of musk as they moved,
Like the soft zephyr bringing with it the scent of the clove.”

Imru' al-Qais (501–544) Arabic Poet

The Sacred Books and Early Literature of the East, Vol. 5, p. 20
Poetry, Couplets

Bahadur Shah Zafar photo
Omar Khayyám photo
Prevale photo

“I would like every day to feel the scent of your skin, like the taste of your kiss, admire your sensuality, perceive your sweetness, listen to the beating of your heart, understand the depth of your soul, rejoice with your smile, have fun with your liking and be able to fully live your harmony.”

Prevale (1983) Italian DJ and producer

Original: (it) Vorrei ogni giorno poter sentire il profumo della tua pelle, gradire il sapore di un tuo bacio, ammirare la tua sensualità, percepire la tua dolcezza, ascoltare il battito del tuo cuore, comprendere la profondità della tua anima, gioire con il tuo sorriso, divertirmi con la tua simpatia e poter vivere appieno la tua armonia.
Source: prevale.net

Emma Goldman photo

“So long as one can use scented candy to abate the foul breath of hypocrisy, Puritanism is triumphant.”

Anarchism and Other Essays (1910), The Hypocrisy of Puritanism

Alfred Noyes photo
Alfred Austin photo

“My virgin sense of sound was steeped
In the music of young streams;
And roses through the casement peeped,
And scented all my dreams.”

Alfred Austin (1835–1913) British writer and poet

"Prelude", stanza XI; p. ix., At the Gate of the Convent (1885)

“It is illicit for the heart to smell the scent of certainty while contentment with other-than-God dwells therein.”

Sahl al-Tustari (818–896) arabian Sufi, Islamic theologian

Source: The Sayings and Teachings of the Great Mystics of Islam (2004), p. 54

“What sweet nectars and scents would emerge once the depths of your essence are revealed.”

Source: SHADES OF VANITY: Shades and Shadows of Eroticism

Prevale photo

“I wish I could be next to you stroking your hair, warning the scent of your skin and looking into your eyes, sweetly bite your lips.”

Prevale (1983) Italian DJ and producer

Original: Vorrei poter essere accanto a te accarezzandoti i capelli, avvertendo il profumo della tua pelle e guardandoti negli occhi, mordere dolcemente le tue labbra.
Source: prevale.net