Synaesthesia Quotes

“I dreamily and digestively drowse. I have time, between synaesthesias. And it's extraordinary to think that, if I were asked right now what I want for this short life, I could think nothing better than these long slow minutes, this absence of thought and emotion, of action and almost o sensation itself, this inner sunset of dissipated desire. And then it occurs to me, almost without thinking, that most if not all people live like this, with greater or lesser consciousness, moving forward or standing still, but still with the very same indifference towards ultimate aims, the same renunciation of their personal goals, the same watered-down life.”
― Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet

“The word love has always tasted like the scent of fresh ink and soft paper to me. Like a newly written poem.”
― Megan Hart, Tear You Apart

“It was shivery and scant. Scared. Skint. But just around the edges it was still scintillant.”
― Patrick Rothfuss, The Slow Regard of Silent Things

“Oh no. He was emberant. Incarnadine. He was bright with better bright beneath, like copper-gilded gold.”
― Patrick Rothfuss, The Slow Regard of Silent Things

“Jealousy smells like the water in the bottom of a flower vase after the flowers have died.”
― Megan Hart, Tear You Apart

“I fused the beauty of dreaming and the reality of life into a single blissful colour..

...On a clear bright day even the softness of the sounds is golden...”
― Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet

“She said that everything had colour in her thought; the months of the year ran through all the tints of the spectrum, the days of the week were arrayed as Solomon in his glory, morning was golden, noon orange, evening crystal blue, and night violet. Every idea came to her mind robed in its own especial hue. Perhaps that was why her voice and words had such a charm, conveying to the listeners' perception such fine shadings of meaning and tint and music.”
― L.M. Montgomery, The Golden Road

“Man is not to direct or to be directed anymore than a tree or a cloud or a stone

Man is not to rule or be ruled anymore than a faith or a truth or a love

Man is not to doubt or to be doubted anymore than a wave or a seed or a fire

There is no problem in living which life hasn't answered to its own need

And we cannot direct, rule, or doubt what is beyond our highest ability to understand we can only be humble before it we can only worship ourselves because we are a part of it

The eye in the leaf is watching out of our fingers
The ear in the stone is listening through our voices
The thought of the wave is thinking in our dreams
The faith of the seed is building with our deaths”
― Kenneth Patchen, Collected Poems

“A Black, E white, I red, U green, O blue: vowels,
Someday I shall tell of your mysterious births:
A, black velvety corset of dazzling flies
Buzzing around cruel smells,
Gulfs of shadow; E, white innocence of vapors and of tents,
Spears of proud glaciers, white kings, shivers of Queen Anne's lace;
I, purples, spitting blood, smile of beautiful lips
In anger or in drunken penitence;
U, waves, divine shudderings of green seas,
The calm of pastures dotted with animals, the peace of furrows
Which alchemy prints on wide, studious foreheads;
O, sublime Bugle full of strange piercing sound,
Silences crossed by Worlds and by Angels;
- O the Omega, the violet ray of her Eyes!”
― Arthur Rimbaud

“Warlock: Four thousand and fifty-three metric tons of inert rock, metal and organic matter, frozen solid.

Quasar: Frozen in what?

Drax: Time.

Quasar: "Time", Drax?

Drax: Uh-huh. Old, old frozen time.

Quasar: Right. And that tastes like what?

Drax: Regret.”
― Dan Abnett, Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 1: Legacy

“The sunset of all emotions, myself yellowing, subdued to grey sadness in my external self-awareness”
― Pessoa

“The feeling of pain resembles the anguished, troubled height of convulsions, and suffering-the long and the slow kind-has the intimate yellow which colours the vague bliss of profoundly felt convalescence".”
― Fernando Pessoa

“My mother is from Cairo, Georgia. This makes everything she says sound like it went through a curling iron. Other people sound flat to my ear; their words just hang in the air. But when my mother says something, the ends curl.”
― Augusten Burroughs, Running With Scissors

“Mirror-touch synesthesia could very well scientifically explain why physical empaths seem to “catch” or absorb the illnesses of other people, and also why empaths, as a whole, find violence absolutely unbearable to watch.”
― Aletheia Luna, Awakened Empath: The Ultimate Guide to Emotional, Psychological and Spiritual Healing

“It was a pink sort of smell- a smell that seemed to get bigger as you smelled it and then burst, just like the popping of a bubble”
― Alexander McCall Smith, Explosive Adventures

“A week was what she wanted: a nice manageable chunk of time with a beginning, a middle, and an end, containing, if desired, a space for each of the wonders of the world, the champions of Christendom, the deadly sins, or the colours of the rainbow. (Monday was definitely yellow, Thursday a dull indigo, Friday violet. About the others she didn't feel so strongly.)”
― Jan Struther, Mrs. Miniver

“What I see, what I see are the colours for love.”
― Davina Bell, The End of the World Is Bigger than Love

“One of my friends has synaesthesia, a condition where one sense automatically triggers another; in her case it means she sees words as colours.”
― Gabriella Bennett, The Art of Coorie: How to Live Happy the Scottish Way