“I take a sun bath and listen to the hours, formulating, and disintegrating under the pines, and smell the resiny hardihood of the high noon hours. The world is lost in a blue haze of distances, and the immediate sleeps in a thin and finite sun.” WorldTimeLostHoursSleepSunBlueDistanceSmellFiniteBathsNoonHaze Author:Zelda Fitzgerald
“I wish we could spend July by the sea, browning ourselves and feeling water-weighted hair flow behind us from a dive. I wish our gravest concerns were the summer gnats. I wish we were hungry for hot dogs and dopes, and it would be nice to smell the starch of summer linens and the faint odor of talc in blistering summer bath houses ... We could lie in long citoneuse beams of the five o'clock sun on the plage at Juan-les-Pins and hear the sound of the drum and piano being scooped out to sea by the waves.” LongFeelingsWould BeLyingHouseWishSoundWaterBehindsSunFiveNiceSeaDogHairSummerConcernFlowHotWaveSmellHungryClockPianoBeing NiceBathsPinsJulyBeamDopeOdorHot DogJuanLinenGnats Author:Zelda Fitzgerald
“I don’t suppose I really know you very well - but I know you smell like the delicious damp grass that grows near old walls and that your hands are beautiful opening out of your sleeves and that the back of your head is a mossy sheltered cave when there is trouble in the wind and that my cheek just fits the depression in your shoulder.” KnowsWellsHandsBeautifulGrowsTroubleWindWallFitSmellShouldersOpeningGrassCheeksDeliciousCavesSleevesDamp Author:Zelda Fitzgerald
“Something in me vibrates to a dusky, dreamy smell of dying moons and shadows.” DyingMoonShadowSmellDreamyVibrate Book:The Collected Writings Source: The Collected Writings