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It makes me shiver even now when I think of the flashing of those big knives and of how each one of the savages seemed to be reveling in the smell and taste of blood! I feel that they could have slashed and cut into one of us with the same relish. It was much like seeing a murder committed.
I am going to decorate it and we are going to make a hit with it that will be at least a start on the road to greater fame. What you see is material. You can pick it up, smell it, admire it and eat it. But what I have truly been doing is setting Spanish iris for yards down one side of the bed of your stream.
Chapman had put her into a coffin like the one he was making when he gave Dank the wood for the rabbit's house. Every time Miss Thompson came near her she saw the white sheet and smelt the sharp, bitter smell of the coffin. It might happen any minute. It never did. For Miss Thompson said you were good if you knew your lessons; and at the same time you were not naughty if you didn't know them.
As the soul can see, hear, and taste, so it can smell, and brings refreshment to itself that way. But how came the church to understand this, but because her soul did smell that in it that was to be smelled in it, even in his word and gracious visits? Of feeling. As the soul can see, taste, hear, and smell, so it hath the sense of feeling, as quick and as sensible as the body.
The day had begun auspiciously, and over the bacon and eggs, done to a ravishing brown by the little Jap, he told Mary Josephine of some of his bills of fare in the north and how yesterday he had filled up on bacon smell at Andy Duggan's.
The only pleasure she gets out of her presents is making fun of them and snapping at the people who send them. She's an awful snapper. The Damanarkist sent these cigars. They smell good. He don't believe in Christmas, but he sent Father and me both a present. I hope he'll like the picture-frame I made for his mother's picture. His mother's dead, but he believed in her.
We forget that there are five chords in the great scale of life sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch and few of us ever master the chords well enough to get the full symphony of life, but are something like little pig-tailed girls playing Peter Piper with one finger while all the music of the universe is in the Great Instrument, and all to be had for the taking.
Finding that the hot air was not coming up strong through the register over which he sat, the old man slowly pushed his wool-socked feet into felt-lined overshoes and tramped down into the cellar, picking up the kitchen lamp as he went. Abbie followed as far as the kitchen. The pungent dry-wood smell that came up the stairs when Old Chris swung open the door of the wood cellar made her sniff.
This colloquy of two voices in a brain was concluded by Sir Austin asking again if there were no actual difference between the flower of his hopes and yonder drunken weed, and receiving for answer that there was a decided dissimilarity in the smell of the couple; becoming cognizant of which he retreated. Sir Austin did not battle with the tempter.
Alec Trenholme found the new form of labour to which he had bidden himself toilsome and delightful; like a true son of Adam, he was more conscious of his toil than of his delight still both were there; there was physical inspiration in the light of the snow, the keen still air, and the sweet smell of the lumber.
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