Top Stench Quotes

  • Run. Flee. ???? off. Vanish from my presence and take the foul stench of your sordid secret with you. – St John Morris

    Run. Flee. ???? off. Vanish from my presence and take the foul stench of your sordid secret with you.– St John Morris

  • The smell of frustration cannot compete with the stench of non-creation – Daniel Lee Edstrom

    The smell of frustration cannot compete with the stench of non-creation– Daniel Lee Edstrom

  • He breathed in hard. The stench of blood filled his lungs. Only now, for the first time, could he truly appreciate it. – Shane KP ONeill

    He breathed in hard. The stench of blood filled his lungs. Only now, for the first time, could he truly appreciate it.– Shane KP ONeill

  • He felt more crypts cracking open inside of him; the stench he smelled was not decayed bodies but decayed memories, and that was somehow worse. – Stephen King

    He felt more crypts cracking open inside of him; the stench he smelled was not decayed bodies but decayed memories, and that was somehow worse.– Stephen King

  • When evil enters the world, do you think it comes with horns and cloven feet, billowing some foul stench? – Zia Haider Rahman

    When evil enters the world, do you think it comes with horns and cloven feet, billowing some foul stench?– Zia Haider Rahman

  • Negativity is like burning plastic: while destroying itself, it annoys everyone with its stench. – Charbel Tadros

    Negativity is like burning plastic: while destroying itself, it annoys everyone with its stench.– Charbel Tadros

  • What spreads the stench of bad conduct? It is the egoism and other -˜flaws’. – Dada Bhagwan

    What spreads the stench of bad conduct? It is the egoism and other -˜flaws’.– Dada Bhagwan

  • Could it be he was feeling a certain nostalgia for the war, despite its stench and meaningless carnage? For that questionless life of instinct? – Margaret Atwood

    Could it be he was feeling a certain nostalgia for the war, despite its stench and meaningless carnage? For that questionless life of instinct?– Margaret Atwood