Foul Smell Quotes

The locker at the end of her bed had no lock, and one of the hinges was busted. She opened it up. There was a thing in it. The thing might have been a sandwich at some point, or an animal, or a human hand...but what it was now was fuzzy and putrid. A minute later, Ginny was down the stairs, out the door, and gone.

When a kid says "smell my hand," it almost never smells like cinnamon.

My love, do you recall the object which we saw, That fair, sweet, summer morn! At a turn in the path a foul carcass On a gravel strewn bed, Its legs raised in the air, like a lustful woman, Burning and dripping with poisons, Displayed in a shameless, nonchalant way Its belly, swollen with gases.

My soul seemed as foul as smoke from burning cat fur.

Good God, man, what is that smell?" He eyed with disgust the doctor's filthy cloak. "Life," answered the doctor.

Foul words is but foul wind, and foul wind is but foul breath, and foul breath is noisome; therefore I will depart unkissed.

I wrinkled my nose, trying to figure out what he smelled like. Not cigarettes. Something richer, fouler. Cigars.

I don't usually stink. But I stunk today.

It is not a fragrant world.

Not until it starts to stink does the inevitable happen.

The Deadwood dirt they painted on us with powder. The air always smelled of livestock and something burning, gave a sooty, dense feel to the air. It was a mixture of odors.

You can't expect a man in a dung heap to smell sweet.

Imagine some foul and putrid corpse that has lain rotting and decomposing in the grave, a jelly-like mass of liquid corruption. Imagine such a corpse a prey to flames, devoured by the fire of burning brimstone and giving off dense choking fumes of nauseous loathsome decomposition. And then imagine this sickening stench, multiplied a millionfold and a millionfold again from the millions upon millions of fetid carcasses massed together in the reeking darkness, a huge and rotting human fungus. Imagine all this, and you will have some idea of the horror of the stench of hell.

The corridor couldn't have smelled more strongly of fish guts if we had actually been inside a fish.

Welcome to Chicago. This town stinks like a whorehouse at low tide.

In case you're wondering, the underside of a sheep doesn't smell that great. Imagine a winter sweater that's been dragged through the mud and left in the laundry hamper for a week. Something like that.

If I stay in Washington for more than 72 hours, I have to bathe myself in the same stuff I use when my dog gets into a fight with a skunk.