Luckily, we were here. We heard a pop, a strong smell of smoke, and the box on the wall was literally on fire.
strong fire wall box pop smell smoke
Sweet smell of success
success sweet smell
In Hollywood we acquire the finest novels in order to smell the leather bindings.
order novels hollywood smell
I think we're going to see a rate increase at the end of March and another one at the end of May to bring us up to 5 percent. Then I think the Federal Reserve will step back for a while to smell the roses.
end smell roses
After all, reading is arguably a far more creative and imaginative process than writing; when the reader creates emotion in their head, or the colors of the sky during the setting sun, or the smell of a warm summer's breeze on their face, they should reserve as much praise for themselves as they do for the writer - perhaps more.
reading writing sky praise writer process creative sun emotion face colors smell head reader
O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father refuse thy name, thou art thyself thou not a montegue, what is montegue? Tis nor hand nor foot nor any other part belonging to a man What is in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, So Romeo would were he not Romeo called retain such dear perfection to which he owes without that title, Romeo, Doth thy name! And for that name which is no part of thee, take all thyself.
man art belonging sweet perfection call romeo-and-juliet rose father hand smell part romeo
In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.
nature end day spring smell
Every second he breathed, the smell of the grass, the cool air on his face, was so precious: To think that people had years and years, time to waste, so much time it dragged, and he was clinging to each second.
people time air face waste precious cool smell grass
Hope you didn't bring any spiders into the van with you,' Simon put in. 'Hey, I'm thinking we could take you back outside and hose you down, just to make sure. You'd definitely smell better if we did, which, I mean, bonus.' Jeremy scraped both hands through his hair again, then beat them clean against his thighs. 'Believe me, Simon, if we had access to a garden hose, I'd be the first to turn it on myself. I feel foul.''Hate to break it to you, Archer, but that feeling is not lying to you,' Simon said with mild relish.
funny humor clean action feeling break lying feel suspense hands thinking hair smell garden beat simon archer hope
The smell of dead fish lingered in the air, and excited flies darted from fish to fish lapping up the decay.
mystery adventure action fish air dead smell decay middle-grade
I am not a machine. For what can a machine know of the smell of wet grass in the morning, or the sound of a crying baby? I am the feeling of the warm sun against my skin; I am the sensation of a cool wave breaking over me. I am the places I have never seen, yet imagine when my eyes are closed. I am the taste of another's breath, the color of her hair. You mock me for the shortness of my lifespan, but it is this very fear of dying that breathes life into me. I am the thinker who thinks of thoughts. I am curiosity, I am reason, I am love, and I am hatred. I am indifference. I am the son of a father, who in turn was a father's son. I am the reason my mother laughed and the reason my mother cried. I am wonder and I am wondrous. Yes, the world may push your buttons as it passes through your circuitry. But the world does not pass through me. It lingers. I am in it and it is is me. I am the means by which the universe has come to know itself. I am the thing no machine can ever make. I am meaning.
places sound life art meaning world fear reason crying color curiosity universe feeling thoughts breath mother morning sun imagine son eyes hatred machine taste cool father hair smell skin grass genesis dying indifference baby love breaking thing wave wet
It had been startling and disappointing to me to find out that story books had been written by people, that books were not natural wonders, coming up of themselves like grass. Yet regardless of where they come from, I cannot remember a time when I was not in love with them -- with the books themselves, cover and binding and the paper they were printed on, with their smell and their weight and with their possession in my arms, captured and carried off to myself. Still illiterate, I was ready for them, committed to all the reading I could give them..
reading wonders inspiration literature writing people time creativity storytelling story remember possession find weight written natural smell grass paper arms love ready books give
When I open them, most of the books have the smell of an earlier time leaking out between the pages - a special odor of the knowledge and emotions that for ages have been calmly resting between the covers. Breathing it in, I glance through a few pages before returning each book to its shelf.
emotions time knowledge book library special breathing open smell pages books
I love the smell of book ink in the morning.
reading book morning smell ink love books
She closed the book and put her cheek against it. There was still an odor of a library on it, of dust, leather, binding glue, and old paper, one book carrying the smell of hundreds.
book library smell dust paper book-lover books bibliophile
Sidda can't help herself. She just loves books. Loves the way they feel, the way they smell, loves the black letters marching across the white pages..
feel black letters smell white pages books
For a moment I was distracted. Books always did that to me.. I liked the creamy pages, the smell of ink, all the secrets locked inside.
reading moment secrets smell inside ink pages books
Learning became her. She loved the smell of the book from the shelves, the type on the pages, the sense that the world was an infinite but knowable place. Every fact she learned seemed to open another question, and for every question there was another book.
reading sense world learning book question open place fact infinite smell pages learned books shelves
And how could anyone consent to give up the smell of open books, old or new?
open smell books give
I know every book of mine by its smell, and I have but to put my nosebetween the pages to be reminded of all sorts of things.
reading literature book things smell nose pages books
But the penciled sheets did not seem like nor smell like the library book so she had given it up, consoling herself with the vow that when she grew up, she would work hard, save money and buy every single book that she liked.
reading money work book library hard smell single save books
It's important to read a book, but also to hold the book, to smell the book.. It's perfume, it's incense, it's the dust of Egypt..
perfume book read smell dust egypt important books
She loved the smell of books, the feel of books, the look of them on the shelf.
feel smell books
Books smell and feel better. They have that wonderful thingness of turning the pages.
wonderful feel smell pages books
The library would've cheered me up, most days. I loved the heavy oaken tables, the high walls stacked with books to the ceiling, the musty smell of old pages and the heavy brass fixtures that had gone dark with age and wear.
age days dark library afterlife smell pages walls books heavy
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