Top 100 Her Smell Quotes
#1. to myself as I glanced over at her thick ass lying naked next to me. I was so in love with her smooth cocoa skin and that fat ghetto ass. She had me hypnotized by her big brown eyes... that long black hair...and her smell!!! Damn my bitch was fine and I loved the shit out of her, but
Niki Jilvontae
#2. Forget? No." Conner frowned. "It has been decades, and I still remember every detail about her: her smell, her touch, the way her voice hummed in my ears. Why would I want to forget any of that? Those memories are my treasures.
H.L. Burke
#3. All my senses are filled with her - her sounds, her smell, her touch. Her.
Elle Kennedy
#4. I pull her closer toward me, telling myself I'm only doing it to steady her. It's a lie. I want her heat, her smell, the feel of her body pressed against mine.
N.E. Henderson
#5. In the past, I had particularly loved her smell. She always smelled freshed, freshly washed or of freshed laundry or fresh sweat or freshly loved
Bernhard Schlink
#6. I grabbed it and held it to my face and there,God,yes.Her smell.The lilac shampoo and the almond in her skin lotion and benneath all of that the faint sweetness of the skin itself.
John Green
#7. Screw sight. A man didn't have to see to appreciate the picture she presented. Her smell, her heat and the tiny moans escaping her lips were more erotic than any vision.
Nikki Duncan
#8. For all the way he loved her. Every song had her memory, every rain had her smell, and every girl had her face.
Akshay Vasu
#9. Missing someone is the reverberating echo of everything beautiful about her - her laugh, her song, her touch, her smell, the power of her words, and the constant shadow that lingers on as her perfect image in your memory.
Richelle E. Goodrich
#10. My peace carries her smell and sounds like her voice.
Layla Hagen
#11. Coconut teased him with tropical deliciousness; then the vanilla he so often smelled on Lou's neck wafted up. He ached to hold her, smell that spot right behind her ear. The cake, frosted and covered with toasted coconut, beckoned, wanting to be cut and eaten immediately.
Amy E. Reichert
#12. Living life as only half humans until one day we meet a woman who completes us, who gives meaning to our pathetic existence and makes it worthwhile, enriching it with her laugh, with her smell, and the taste of her body. Days
Mia Asher
#13. The time for compromise has now passed, and the South is determined to maintain her position, and make all who oppose her smell Southern powder and feel Southern steel.
Jefferson Davis
#14. Now there was the rustling of skirts, and it kicked up her smell, that distinctive blend of vanilla and violets, lavender and roses - an entire moving garden with a kitchen thrown in for good measure, and God save the allergic.
Meredith Duran
#15. He wanted to tell her that all at once he fell madly in love with everything about her, the way she kissed, the taste of her lips, her voice, her smell, her nearness ... but such a premature confession at this point could make her suspicious of his intelligence. From The Cartesian Machine
Nick Tran
#16. I love the smell of old books, Mandy sighed, inhaling deeply with the book pressed against her face. The yellow pages smelled of wood and paper mills and mothballs.
Rebecca McNutt
#17. We must go for a day in the country and when surrounded by the gay twittering of the birds and the smell of the cows I will lay my suit at her feet and he waved his arm wildly at the gay thought.
Daisy Ashford
#18. He leaned close to her and took a deep breath, unsettling her. "You smell of lavender. I wouldna believe a shepherdess would smell so fine."
"I bathed in a tub full of lavender this morning, just for you, so it seems, as I knew you would appreciate the effort.
Terry Spear
#19. He had preserved the best part of her and made it his own: the principle of her scent.
Patrick Suskind
#20. She's an old lady from times back. Her clothes have the smell of her sheep and that rusty smell of the ancient trunk in which she keeps her things.
Denys Johnson-Davies
#21. He always smelled like warm wood and brandy, even when he hadn't had a drop of drink. Funny how he managed that. Funny how his smell was in her bed.
Henry's eyelids fluttered open.
Funny how he was in her bed.
Julia Quinn
#22. The sleeping beauty in the fairy tale was awakened by the kiss of her prince. Finley woke up to the over-whelming and oh-so-not-delightful smell of vinegar.
"Bloody hell!" She cried, lurching upright.
Kady Cross
#23. I folded myself against her body, breathing in the smell of my new life and matching my heartbeat to hers Sam, Linger
Maggie Stiefvater
#24. Sir, this young fellow's mother could: whereupon
she grew round-wombed, and had, indeed, sir, a son
for her cradle ere she had a husband for her bed.
Do you smell a fault?
William Shakespeare
#25. I feel like I'm selling something nobody want to buy. Something big and stinky, like Kiki Brown and her lemon smell-good polish. But what really makes me and Kiki the same is, I'm proud a what I'm selling. I can't help it. We telling stories that need to be told.
Kathryn Stockett
#26. She took the pills from him, placed them in her mouth and drank the entire bottle of water. Water: it has no taste, no smell, no color, and yet it is the most important thing in the world. Just like her at that moment.
Paulo Coelho
#27. There was something unnatural, a little unhealthy, about the way she inhaled Veda's smell as she dedicated the rest of her life to this child who had been spared.
James M. Cain
#28. But the smell of her hair. The way she clasped her hand around my fingers. This was like medicine.
Jenny Offill
#29. Perfume is magic. It's mystery. We recreate the smell of a flower. Of wood. Of grass. We capture the essence of life. Liquefy it. We store memories. We make dreams," he told her once. "What we do is a wonder, an art, and we have a responsibility to do it well.
M.J. Rose
#30. He paid scant attention to the conversation. He could smell his own sent on Anna's body, and it satisfied him in a primal way ... She gasped as he buried his nose in her maiden hair and inhaled. His scent was strongest here, in her gilded curls so soft and pretty in the morning light.
Elizabeth Hoyt
#31. She had about her a strong smell of hair-spray and her lunch-time whisky.
Elizabeth Taylor
#32. I'm here because you're here. When a man loves a woman, he wants to spend time with her. Even if that means he has to put on a suit and tie. He wants to hold her tight and smell her hair.
Rachel Gibson
#33. Lena was going down the list of John's attributes in her mind, a list I was hoping wasn't too long. "He could see and hear and smell things I couldn't."
Link inhaled deeply, then coughed. "Dude, you really need a shower.
Kami Garcia
#34. I couldn't leave there without carrying some of her sadness and loneliness with me like a cloak. There was a smell that I've come to think of as life rot. Where a life has spoiled, gone bad through lack of use.
Lisa Unger
#35. Scent:
When she wore the hat, even many years later, she could always smell her mother's perfume & it was hard to remember she was supposed to be alone.
Brian Andreas
#36. Sometimes when she lies awake her body feels as finely made as a tuning fork. She can hear and smell the most delicate things, the smell and music of thought itself.
Diana Abu-Jaber
#37. When my mother was dying, I cooked for her. One of the things I realised was that the smell and look of the food was key. I concentrated on how it looked on the plate. Even if the amount was small, it gave her a nourishment of a different kind.
Simon McBurney
#38. He could smell her mortality, the sweet rot of corruption.
Cassandra Clare
#39. She smells like angels ought to smell, the perfect woman ... the Goddess. Goldie. She says her name is Goldie.
Frank Miller
#40. Julie nearly fainted when I showed up at home that night with the new Lexus. The first thing she wanted to do was drive it. I let her drive all over San Francisco with the windows rolled up, because we didn't want to lose one precious whiff of that new-car smell.
Lee Goldberg
#41. Oh yes! Smell how much I need you!" Taylor's hips bucked over and over, desperately searching for a part of their bodies to wet with her cream.
Lola Newmar
#42. When the smell of her perfume, something that reminded him of faint spicy blossoms and spring, wasn't wreathed in a cloud around him.
Maybe it was magic. Was she one of the creatures from the many Scottish tales his nurse had told him as a child?
Karen Ranney
#43. I scoff. I'd kill for her metabolism. I can just smell food and my ass inflates. We
S.M. Shade
#44. Veek clutched her blocky pistol in both hands. A tiny wisp of smoke slipped out of the barrel, thinned, and vanished. The smell of powder wafted around her.
Peter Clines
#45. Okay?" I ask, raising my eyebrows. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, cringes at the smell of my fluids, then nods. "Okay.
Isaac Marion
#46. Every Sunday I nudge Sam in her direction, and he walks to where she is sitting and hugs her. She smells him behind the ears, where he most smells like sweet unwashed new potatoes. This is in fact what I think God may smell like, a young child's slightly dirty neck.
Anne Lamott
#47. I closed my mouth and looked across the water. Inches away, Denna did the same. I could feel the heat of her. She smelled like road dust, and honey, and the smell the air holds seconds before a heavy summer rain.
Patrick Rothfuss
#48. Dogman remembered the smell of her hair, the sound of her laugh, the feel of her back, pressed warm and soft against his belly while she slept. Well-used memories, picked over and worn thin like a favourite shirt.
Joe Abercrombie
#49. She took off her wheel, took off her bell, took off her wig, said, how do I smell? I hot footed it barenaked out the window.
Bob Dylan
#50. Stop it," Chance says out loud, angryraw, scornful voice that she hardly recognizes, "Jesus, just fucking stop it," but she's crying again, and her eyes burn, and she's so goddamn sick of the sound, the smell and saltbland flavor of her own useless tears.
Caitlin R. Kiernan
#51. I love the smell of you. Sea air, leather, and your skin...all of you." She sewed soft kisses over his chest, inching toward the hollow at the base of his neck. "You'll never be free of me."
His arms tightened like manacles, squeezing her closer. "Never have I wanted to be free of you.
Gina Conkle
#52. In memoir, you have to be particularly careful not to alienate the reader by making the material seem too lived-in. It mustn't have too much of the smell of yourself, otherwise the reader will be unable to make it her own.
Rachel Cusk
#53. We need the tonic of the wilderness, to wade sometimes in the marsh where the bitten and the meadow hen lurk, and hear the booming of the snipe; to smell the whispering sedge where only some wilder and more solitary fowl builds her nest, and the mink crawls with its belly close to the ground.
Henry David Thoreau
#55. Guys can smell desperation. It triggers an instinct in them to run far and fast so they aren't around when a woman starts peeling apart her heart.
Janette Rallison
#56. A man putting flowers on the grave of his wife saw a lady putting sandwiches on her husband's grave:
Man: do you really think your husband will eat those sandwiches?
Woman: yes ... , just after your wife enjoys the smell of your flowers.
A state of a wisdom.
Sameh Elsayed
#57. In contrast to the 'Europeanism' and the 'popular foundations' of his brothers, he seems to represent ingenuous Russia - oh, not all, not all, and God forbid it should be all! Yet she is here, our dear mother Russia, we can smell her, we can hear her.
Fyodor Dostoyevsky
#58. I come to writing from hearing great stories as a child in Louisiana, where the mark of a person was his or her ability to be a raconteur. I also come to writing as a professional actress whose body has been trained to listen and smell and inhabit characters without judgment.
Rebecca Wells
#59. Their encounter confirmed what he had been unwilling to admit. Charlotte didn't taste, smell, or feel like any other woman he had ever known. She wasn't like any other woman and never would be. And he would never be satisfied with another woman now that he'd touched her.
Sebastian
Ally Broadfield
#60. I miss everything. I miss talking to her, hearing about her day. I miss her voice all gravelly and smoky, I miss hearing her laugh, I miss getting her letters, writing her letters. I miss her eyes, and the smell of her hair, and the way her breath tasted. I fucking miss everything.
James Frey
#61. Alex chuckled and whispered in her ear. I'm feeling huge ... I mean I have this huge desire ... Crap, you feel good tonight. And you smell so good.
Melisa M. Hamling
#62. He loved the feel and smell of her palm and because he was one of those men who was always ultimately looking to dissolve himself into a woman.
Glen Duncan
#63. She is silk in a bed of mail-order satin. Complete and seamless, an egg of sexual muscle. My motions atop her are dislocated, frantic, my lone interstice a trans-cultural spice of encouragement I smell with my spine. As, inside it, I go, I cry out to a god whose absence I have never felt to keenly.
David Foster Wallace
#64. K-dar," Nora said and tapped the side of her nose. "Kinksters can smell it on each other.
Tiffany Reisz
#65. There are olive trees outside and the imagined smell of their bark and silvered leaves brings with it the first unfurling of some new imperative she feels coiled up within her. Her whole body with a joyful shout know it is back in Italy.
Glenn Haybittle
#66. as she walked back to her husband, lola thought about lying on her expensive sheets and holding a baby - their baby - to her breast. to the baby, lola would smell like a mother, and the ridiculous chandelier would look like stars.
Amanda Eyre Ward
#67. To really love Joan Didion - to have been blown over by things like the smell of jasmine and the packing list she kept by her suitcase - you have to be female.
Caitlin Flanagan
#68. Birds chirped and hawked in the distance. A group of them, maybe vultures, circled the sky. Rae glanced at the blanket. Those damn birds could probably smell Marissa, and the second everyone left, they'd pounce on her.
Yawatta Hosby
#69. The smell of her hair lingered just out of reach of his memory and left him with a nervous hum resonating throughout his body like a child forced to sit in church while the sun was shining outside on a perfectly good summer's day.
Erik Tomblin
#70. I can smell the sex on her. I hope she smells the love on me.
Ned Vizzini
#71. The horizon was frosted with a greenish smear, as if ranks of campfires from distant tribes had divined the news already and were burning an homage to Elphaba before the sun could set on the day of her death.
He could smell her in the collar of the cape, and he wept for the first time.
Gregory Maguire
#72. Amanda took the lead following her sense of smell. On the other hand, I followed a werewolf who was leading me by her nose. Not sure, which of us was crazier.
Jazz Feylynn
#73. Yes, said Cook. That is soup that you are smelling. The princess, not that you would know or care, is missing, bless her goodhearted self. and times are terrible. and when times are terrible, soup is the answer. Don't it smell like the answer?
Kate DiCamillo
#74. My darling looks like a little girl when she awakens. You couldn't think she is the mother of two big brats. And her skin has a lovely smell, like new-cut grass, the most cozy and comforting odor I know.
John Steinbeck
#75. She kissed me on the mouth. Her mouth tasted like iced coffee and cardamom, and I was overwhelmed by the taste, her hot skin and the smell of unwashed hair. I was confused, but not unwilling. I would have let her do anything to me.
Janet Fitch
#76. Francie loved the smell of coffee and the way it was hot. As she ate her bread and meat, she kept one hand curved about the cup enjoying its warmth. From time to time, she'd smell the bitter sweetness of it. That was better than drinking it. At the end of the meal, it went downt the sink.
Betty Smith
#77. Don't tell her that your moms knew right away what it was, that she recognized its smell from the year the United States invaded your island.
Junot Diaz
#78. Her mother bent close, the smell of whiskey and beer and sweat as familiar as any perfume to Kaye.
Holly Black
#79. She just shook her head and pulled out a small bottle of some random pop star's signature perfume, spritzing me with the sickly-sweet smell.
"Oh, come on Ash, that smells like a unicorn fart," I cried, recoiling at the overpowering, candylike smell.
Cara Lynn Shultz
#80. Her cover version of Smells Like Teen Spirit is the reason Kurt killed himself.
Tori Amos
#81. The smell of her hair, the taste of her mouth, the feeling of her skin seemed to have got inside him, or into the air all round him. She had become a physical necessity.
George Orwell
#82. The smell of peppery warm cheese and thick, yeasty grilled bread was beginning to fill the air. She would give the sandwich to Della Lee when she got home, and while Della Lee ate the sandwich Josey would eat oatmeal pies and candy corn and packets of salty pumpkin seeds from her closet.
Sarah Addison Allen
#83. She poured me another drink and in the light breeze of her movements I smelled again the manufactured smell of these women.
Lily King
#84. She remembered how Billy always picked the first apple blossoms and put them into a tin cup for her. They made the house smell like springtime. Billy said apple trees were a double blessing, first for the blossoms and then the apples.
Sandra Dallas
#85. Anna took her solace where she always did. The smell of the earth, the touch of the sky held for her a special alchemy, able to turn loneliness into aloneness, and so make it, if not sacred, at least bearable.
Nevada Barr
#86. Heap not on this mound roses that she loved so well; why bewilder her with roses that she cannot see or smell.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
#87. Finished. I can smell it," Elaine said.
"Chocolate. I helped," Tina said.
"She talks clearly for her age. My boys were chatterboxes
Carolyn Brown
#88. I sucked in the smell of her perfume, Viva La Juicy, and was swept away. La Juicy was part of my oxygen supply, even for the year and a half we were apart.
Levi Johnston
#89. The wind was cold and cut into her even though it was at her back, but she loved the wild sound and the salt smell of it and the deepened sense of solitude it brought.
Mary Balogh
#90. I can smell her perfume, something flowery, too strong in this enclosed darkness. I wonder if this is temptation. If so, I am stone.
Joanne Harris
#91. I sprayed scent like a saga a little too anxiously, left the porridge burnt at the bottom of the pot that morning: oats. Now I am swimming for my life while my sister in another city reaches for her umbrella next to her front door. I can smell the rosemary chicken but I don't want any feasts.
Abigail George
#92. Women worry too much about how they smell or taste. I assure you, I love to taste a woman's primal essence on my tongue." Something melted inside her. He liked it? "Really? You're not just being polite, are you, Sir?" "No, kitten, when it comes to sex, I don't have a polite bone in my body.
Kallypso Masters
#93. Our families were herded out of the room, and I snuggled little Ainsley closer, smelling her head, a smell I already recognized. I'd cheerfully kill for her, happily lay down my life for her without a second's hesitation and with a smile on my face. My beautiful baby. My gift.
Kristan Higgins
#94. She loved the sea. She liked the sharp salty smell of the air, and the vastness of the horizons bounded only by a vault of azure sky above. It made her feel small, but free as well.
George R R Martin
#95. That's the problem, two of us with issues, insecurities and baggage.' He put on a high-pitched whiny voice. 'Does my hair look OK, did I wear the right shoes, does my breath smell, does my bum look big?'
'Not all girls have those issues.'
'I wasn't talking about her, I was talking about me
Holly Martin
#96. The sound of her laughter was sticky as sap, the smell of night-blooming jasmine soft as a milk bath.
Janet Fitch
#97. Lee leaned closer to her and swore he could smell fear coming off her in waves, the way a shark smells blood in the water
Pamela K. Kinney
#98. I am not a historian. I happen to think that the content of my mother's life - her myths, her superstitions, her prayers, the contents of her pantry, the smell of her kitchen, the song that escaped from her sometimes parched lips, her thoughtful repose and pregnant laughter - are all worthy of art.
August Wilson
#99. She took comfort in the familiarity of his smell, knowing that if she lost all her possessions and her home, at least she would have her family.
Sage Steadman
#100. But no one except Lucy knew that as it circled the mast it had whispered to her, "Courage, dear heart," and the voice, she felt sure, was Aslan's, and with the voice a delicious smell breathed in her face.
C.S. Lewis
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