Scent Of Flesh Quotes

If I wanted to shoot someone's face, they'd know it. ~ Jessica Marie Baumgartner

Some historians subsequently said that the twentieth century actually started in 1914, when war broke out, because it was first war in history in which so many countries took part, in which so many people died and in which airships and airplanes flew and bombarded the rear and towns and civilians, and submarines sunk ships and artillery could lob shells ten or twelve kilometers. And the Germans invented gas and the English invented tanks and scientists discovered isotopes and general theory of relativity, according to which nothing was metaphysical, but relative.And when Senegalese fusiliers first saw an airplane they thought it was a tame bird and one of the Senegalese soldiers cut a lump of flesh from a dead horse and threw it as far as he could in order to lure it away. And airships and airplanes flew through the sky and the horses were terribly frightened. And writers and poets endeavored to find new ways of expressing it best and in 1916 they invented Dadaism because everything seemed crazy to them. And in Russia they invented a revolution. And the soldiers wore around their neck or wrist a tag with their name and the number of their regiment to indicate who was who, and where to send a telegram of condolences, but if the explosion tore off their head or arm and the tag was lost, the military command would announce that they were unknown soldiers, and in most capital cities they instituted an eternal flame lest they be forgotten, because fire preserves the memory of some ~ Patrik Ouředník

God's word is the way to God himself. If you miss the word of God, you will miss God. Jesus is the word! ~ Israelmore Ayivor

The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood. We saw the glory with our own eyes, the one-of-a-kind glory, like Father, like Son, Generous inside and out, true from start to finish. [1.15] John pointed him out and called, This is the One! The One I told you was coming after me but in fact was ahead of me. He has always been ahead of me, has always had the first word. ~ Eugene H. Peterson

When Your Small Form Tumbled into Me"

I lay sprawled like a big-game rug across the bed:
Belly down, legs wishbone-wide. It was winter.
Workaday. Your father swung his feet to the floor.
The kids upstairs dragged something back and forth
On shrieking wheels. I was empty, blown-through
By whatever swells, swirling, and then breaks
Night after night upon that room. You must have watched
For what felt like forever, wanting to be
What we passed back and forth between us like fire.
Wanting weight, desiring desire, dying
To descend into flesh, fault, the brief ecstasy of being.
From what dream of world did you wriggle free?
What soared - and what grieved - when you aimed your will
At the yes of my body alive like that on the sheets? ~ Tracy K. Smith

A votary of ahimsa always prays for ultimate deliverance from the bondage of the flesh. ~ Mahatma Gandhi

From the sound of pattering raindrops I recaptured the scent of the lilacs at Combray; from the shifting of the sun's rays on the balcony the pigeons in the Champs-Elysées; from the muffling of sounds in the heat of the morning hours, the cool taste of cherries; the longing for Brittany or Venice from the noise of the wind and the return of Easter. Summer was at hand, the days were long, the weather was warm. It was the season when, early in the morning, pupils and teachers repair to the public gardens to prepare for the final examinations under the trees, seeking to extract the sole drop of coolness vouchsafed by a sky less ardent than in the midday heat but already as sterilely pure. ~ Marcel Proust

When a young person, even a gifted one, grows up without proximate living examples of what she may aspire to become
whether lawyer, scientist, artist, or leader in any realm
her goal remains abstract. Such models as appear in books or on the news, however inspiring or revered, are ultimately too remote to be real, let alone influential. But a role model in the flesh provides more than inspiration; his or her very existence is confirmation of possibilities one may have every reason to doubt, saying, 'Yes, someone like me can do this. ~ Sonia Sotomayor

He'd missed her. Really missed her. It was strange to think of a woman night and day, to worry about her and look forward to being with her. To inhale the scent of her and know you were home. To crave her body like an addiction and need the sound of her laughter and sight of her smile. He'd never had that before and now it seemed as natural to him as breathing. ~ Christine Feehan

I inhale his dark scent, and I have the overwhelming feeling of coming home ~ Katie McGarry

What are you doing?" I ask, astonished.
"It's called a hug, Toy." He says it with gentle mockery.
He's hugging me to make me feel better.
His arms tighten around me, and I melt into him before I can stop myself. His body is so strong, his grip so firm. I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes and breathe in his warm, masculine scent, the faint whiff of cologne and sweat and male musk. Then I circle his waist with my hands and hug him back.
I hug my kidnapper.
I hug my torturer.
I just want to feel better about everything, I want to leave my nightmare behind even if it's just for a few moments of make-believe, so I pretend that he's none of those things. I keep my eyes closed tight and pretend that he's my boyfriend, my lover, my protector. And in a way he is. I have no doubt that if anyone tried to harm me, Joshua would kill them or die trying. He's the only man in my life. The only man who's ever given me an orgasm. When we have sex now, it feels like making love, and he always, always makes sure that I come first.
Why couldn't he have been like this when he first took me? I think I'd have been in love with him by now.
He begins stroking my hair, gently, fingers trailing through the tresses.
"This isn't so bad," he murmurs, and I'm not sure if he's talking to himself or me. And a little bit of me melts. This is probably the first time he's ever hugged anyone, and, heart-breakingly, the first time he's ever been hu ~ Ginger Talbot

We deceive ourselves into thinking life is long, but fire reminds us-it is flickering. Life is a flickering-and then it is gone. So, we must make the most of it.

Fire is red. It is yellow. It is blue. It is black as ash, brown as seared lines on timbers. Fire is the pink of flesh, and the gray of smoke that trails. Fire is the all-color that dwells before color, that which comes when one feels a fire will be set... ~ Jesse Ball

sun caught the edge of his belt buckle, projecting a flash that shimmered across the desert plain. A shrill whistle sounded, and as I stepped to the right I caught sight of his shadow spilling a whole other set of sophisms from an entirely different angle. - I been here before, haven't I? He just sat there staring out at the plain. Son of a bitch, I thought. He's ignoring me. - Hey, I said, I'm not the dead, not a shade passing. I'm flesh and blood here. He pulled a notebook out of his pocket and started writing. - You got to at least look at me, I said. After all, it is my dream. I drew closer. Close enough to see what he was writing. He had his notebook open to a blank page and three words suddenly materialized. Nope, it's mine. - Well, I'll be damned, I murmured. I ~ Patti Smith

Saints and mystics spend their lives trying to escape the prison of the flesh; ~ Arthur Koestler

The safest and most suitable form of penance seems to be that which causes pain in the flesh but does not penetrate to the bones, that is, which causes suffering but not sickness. ~ Saint Ignatius

Did you know we carry perfume around?

It's a special fragrance that cannot be bought at any store.

It is more precious than any fragrance ever.

We carry the fragrance of Christ wherever we go.

The Holy Spirit has it's own distinct scent.

We are God's Special Bottle of Perfume.

And both believers and unbelievers can 'smell' it! ~ Diana Rasmussen Of Prayers And Promises

15. In this great crush of egoism, a lot of people die.
16. Reflective neurons are reflected from the neurons of other people. When approaching danger, it's like glowing warning road signs of fear, in the pitch darkness of self-deception. All this is an empathy of fear, that very feeling when the feeling of true friendship, love, empathy in the claws of danger intensifies.
17. The pain of awareness, as if shot from a shotgun to the knee, you feel the infernal pain of insight, you feel the bloody taste of truth in your mouth. You can shout out all fear, but you will never be able to sober up from it to the end because fear is like saliva in your mouth. You are surrounded by a sound bomb, a lethal dose of the sound of laughter of the indifference of reality that will blow up the universe of mankind, you will only have a skeleton that will someday turn into a stone of eternal memory, flesh will grow flowers, and your spirit will turn into memoirs of planet earth.
18. The gloom of loneliness will give either holiness or madness. ~ Musin Almat Zhumabekovich

The scent of wine, oh how much more agreeable, laughing, praying, celestial and delicious it is than that of oil! ~ Francois Rabelais

Anyone who says that life matters less to an animal than it does to us has not held in his hands an animal fighting for its life. The whole of the being of the animal is thrown into that fight, without reserve. When you say that the fight lacks a dimension of intellectual or imaginative horror, I agree. It is not the mode of being animals to have an intellectual horror: their whole being is in the living flesh ... I urge you to walk, flank to flank, beside the beast that is prodded down the chute to his executioner. ~ J.M. Coetzee

Though I like the various forms of football in the world, I don't think they begin to compare with these two great Anglo-Saxon ball games for sophisticated elegance and symbolism. Baseball and cricket are beautiful and highly stylized medieval war substitutes, chess made flesh, a mixture of proud chivalry and base - in both senses - greed. With football we are back to the monotonous clashing armor of the brontosaurus. ~ John Fowles

As they walked, a sudden rush of wind hurled low across the grass, bringing with it the scent of moving water and rocks hidden in shadows, and Blue thrilled again and again with the knowledge that magic was real, magic was real, magic was real. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

Here the scent of fake roses was underscored with the bright iron reek of blood. ~ Christa Faust

A bag of apples, a pot of homemade jam, a scribbled note, a bunch of golden flowers, a coloured pebble, a box of seedlings, an empty scent bottle for the children ... Who needs diamonds and van-delivered bouquets? ~ Pam Brown

What are the butcherly delights of meat? These are not sensual but analytical. The satisfaction of scientific curiosity in dissection. A clinical pleasure in the precision with which the process of reducing the living, moving, vivid object to the dead status of thing is accomplished. The pleasure of watching the spectacle of the slaughter that derives from the knowledge one is disassociated from the spectacle; the bloody excitation of the audience in the abattoir, who watch the dramatic transformation act, from living flesh to dead meat, derives from the knowledge they are safe from the knife themselves. There is the technical pleasure of carving and the anticipatory pleasure of the prospect of eating the meat, of the assimilation of the dead stuff, after which it will be humanly transformed into flesh. ~ Angela Carter

Well, the story is that when a woman found out her husband had fallen in love with a girl from West Stave and planned to leave her, she came to the bridge and, rather than live without him, hurled herself into the canal." "Over a man with so little honor?" "You'd never be tempted? All the fruits and flesh of West Stave before you?" "Would you throw yourself off a bridge for a man who was?" "I wouldn't throw myself off a bridge for the king of Ravka." "It's a terrible story," said Matthias. "I doubt it's true. It's just what happens when you let men name the bridges. ~ Leigh Bardugo

The intellect is of no use unless it's disciplined by the mortification of the flesh, so that it may serve the soul. That's all. The intellect thinks. The body dances. And the spirit sings. A song, a simple song. When love and memory are overwhelming, and the soul, though crushed, takes flight, it does so in a simple song. ~ Mark Helprin

Jesus made this diagnosis a long time ago when talking about temptation. "The spirit" - notice the language again - "is willing, but the flesh [the body] is weak." This is very true and largely ignored and forgotten in our day. Habits eat willpower for breakfast. So there is the will, there is the mind, and there is the body. They are working badly, sometimes in ways that are kind of humorous to us, but often in ways that are horrible and unspeakably tragic. ~ John Ortberg

O great Ariadne who pour out your tears
On the shore, as you see, out there on the waves,
The sail of Theseus flying white under the sun,
O sweet virgin child whom a night has broken,
Be silent!
-Sun and Flesh (Credo in Unam) ~ Arthur Rimbaud

The ambiguity of flesh made for a vastness of possibility that simply could not exist in a binary world. ~ Orson Scott Card

Make me drunk.
Make me drunk, Beloved.
I crave your drink.
Break these thought chains
and tear these garments.
I crave your nakedness.
I'm speaking to you.
I'm speaking to you, Beloved
Take me to the depths of your ocean.
I'm thirsting for your drink.
I have followed the scent
of your intoxicating perfume
and having arrived at this altar,
I sacrifice my body for your soul.
Oh Beloved, make me drunk.
Make me drunk! ~ Kamand Kojouri

I had never realised it before, but the nose is to the mind of a dog what the eye is to the mind of a seeing man. Dogs perceive the scent of a man moving as men perceive his vision. This ~ H.G.Wells

I have a shoebox: for ideas, fragments, snatches of conversation I hear. I scrawl it down, throw the scraps in the box. Every time I start a new script I start picking through the pieces. Suddenly you get five pieces together and think: this is almost the first Act of a movie, if I flesh it out a bit. ~ Shane Black

Putting a woman on the team would be a nightmare, you know that," he said as he started the engine and put the SUV in gear. "We're werewolves. How the hell do you think we're going to be able to hide that from her and do our job at the same time? And don't even get me started on the whole pheromone thing."
They might be men first, and wolves second, but if there was one thing that could bring the whole Pack to its knees, it was the scent of a woman.
"We won't have to hide what we are if the female cop I bring in is a werewolf," Gage said. ~ Paige Tyler

God's image is more than flesh and bones. ~ Charles F. Glassman

It was evenings like that when beneath dim light and relaxing in a sultry bath that she missed him the most. A flicker of candlelight, wind breathing snow against the window and the soothing scent of creme caramel – all were a comfort to her as she closed her eyes, summoned memories and many a tender thought. She didn't feel deserving of the devotion bestowed upon her, but she had finally learned to accept its wondrous gift, knowing that love was the source of existence and its only end. ~ Donna Lynn Hope