“My theory on housework is, if the item doesn’t multiply, smell, catch fire, or block the refrigerator door, let it be. No one else cares. Why should you?”
“I’m stupid, I’m ugly, I’m dumb, I smell. Did I mention I’m stupid?”
“I like watercolours. I like acrylic paint… a little bit. I like house paint. I like oil-based paint, and I love oil paint. I love the smell of turpentine and I like that world of oil paint very, very, very much.”
“I love paint. I like watercolours. I like acrylic paint… a little bit. I like house paint. I like oil-based paint, and I love oil paint. I love the smell of turpentine and I like that world of oil paint very, very, very much.”
“There are three things that people pick up on the instant they walk into your home on Thanksgiving. They will be able to feel the human energy. They’ll smell the food. And they will see, instantly, the table.”
“I believe that there are many herbs and many trees that are worth much in Europe for dyes and for medicines; but I do not know, and this causes me great sorrow. Arriving at this cape, I found the smell of the trees and flowers so delicious that it seemed the pleasantest thing in the world.”
“Leia follows me like a vague smell.”
“I love the smell of rain, and I love the sound of the ocean waves.”
“The ancient media of speech and song and theater were radically reshaped by writing, though they were never entirely supplanted, a comfort perhaps to those of us who still thrill to the smell of a library.”
“The writing I love has something memorable in it – an image, a smell. It’s the connection between the moment and the whole concept, weaving the micro together with the macro so that it has a hold on people – that’s writing.”