Smell Something Fishy Quotes

All the progress in science can’t be used to build a smell receptor as capable as the one that a true leader possesses—to smell trouble or just something fishy.

Now back to the p—Sealord. Reports aside, what do we really know about this Dilys Merimydion?” “We know that he’s wealthy, he’s a skilled warrior, he’s handsome, charming, and helped save the world from a dread god who would have plunged the whole of Mystral into unending winter,” Autumn added. “Not to ruin your determination to find something wrong with him, Viviana, but that last one tells me all I need to know. The man literally helped save the world.” She shrugged. “I can spend three months of my time being nice to him for that.” Spring sighed. “Yes, yes, but in the reports I’ve read, there isn’t one bad thing about him listed. Not one, and that’s just not normal.” “You’re complaining because the reports say Dilys Merimydion is a good man?” Summer shook her head. “Not just good. Too good. As in too good to be true. I’m just saying, something smells fishy to me." Autumn laughed. “You know, there’s a good joke in that remark.” Spring rolled her eyes. “Don’t. Please. Spare us.” In addition to her addiction to food, Autumn possessed a terrible love for pranks, puns, and bad jokes. Which, of course, she took inordinate glee in inflicting on her family. Autumn sniffed with mock indignation. “As if I would cast my pearls before swine. What were we talking about again? Oh, yes, Dilys Merimydion. The Scrumptious Sealord.” “Oh, dear gods,” Spring groaned. “You’ve nicknamed him. Alliteratively.” “I thought about Delicious Dilys. Or Manly Merimydion. After all, from what Storm said, he’s very easy on the eyes. I don’t know, after ten years of being pursued by the Verminous Vermese, I’m looking forward to being courted by a handsome, young suitor who actually respects women and considers them—gasp!—real human beings. Like men, but without the dangly bits. Shocking, I know, but there you have it.” Summer couldn’t help it. She started laughing. Spring glowered. “Stop that! Don’t encourage her!” She turned the glower on Autumn and said, “Aleta Seraphina Helen Rosalie Violet Coruscate, can you please, for one moment, take this seriously?” “You’re taking it seriously enough for the three of us, dearest Viviana.” Autumn lowered her voice and boomed..."he must be investigated. Something about him smells fishy.” Cupping a hand over her mouth, she quipped to Summer in a loud aside, “I dunno, do you think maybe it’s—you know—the gills?” Summer covered her mouth with both hands and spluttered with laughter.

smell something fishy

His nose brought him back to his senses. As he opened the door to the apartment he was greeted by aromas from the kitchen: something roasting, perhaps pork; and garlic, so pervasive it suggested that an entire field of garlic had been seized and tossed into the oven along with the pork. He hung up his jacket, remembered that he had left his briefcase in his office and shrugged off the thought. He paused at the door to the kitchen, hoping to find his family already seated at the table, but the room was empty, except for the garlic, the odour of which seemed to be coming from a tall pot boiling over a low flame. Devoting his entire attention to the smell, he attempted to remember where he had smelled it before. He knew it was familiar, as a melody is familiar even when a person cannot remember the piece from which it comes. He tried to separate the scents: garlic, tomato, a touch of rosemary, something fishy like clams or shrimp – probably shrimp – and, perhaps, carrots. And the garlic, a universe of garlic. He summoned up the sensation he had experienced in the office, of his spirit being steeped in misery. He breathed deeply, hoping that the garlic would drive the misery out. If it could drive away vampires, then surely it could work its herbal magic against something as banal as misery.

but out of all the niggas that were out there on the block, nobody noticed anything? In Papa’s eyes something was real suspect and it smelled fishy.

Cause that woman is a genius, I tell you!

I don’t know, but something smells fishy, and not the good kind of fishy, like salmon,” said Nathan. “I’ll get this sorted out, Red. I promise.

I smelled something fishy. How did The Lancet study researchers get more than ninety thousand patients’ data from hundreds of hospitals analyzed and published so quickly? And why was the lead researcher the only author to have seen the raw numbers? My hunch was right: as it turned out, The Lancet study was a fake.