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“Prove to the world that you are alive, let your words breathe life into the nostrils of the universe.”
― Michael Bassey Johnson

“...Swann had, as he shook the Marquise's hand, seen her bosom from close to and from above, he plunged an attentive, serious, absorbed, almost anxious, gaze into the depths of her corsage, and his nostrils, intoxicated by the woman's perfume, quivered like a butterfly ready to go and settle on the half-glimpsed flower.”
― Marcel Proust, Sodom and Gomorrah

“The smoke from her cigarette passed beneath the nostrils of the brown and white girls, and their space-annihilating concupiscence seemed centered on mentholated smoke along.”
― Kurt Vonnegut Jr., The Sirens of Titan

“Of course I had a handkerchief. It lay, clean as a whistle, in my pocket where it had been for a week. For I had the knack of extracting from my nostrils, with the nail of my forefinger, the snuffling substances that impeded my breathing, and the use of a handkerchief seemed to me a piece of parental superstition.”
― Marcel Pagnol, My Father's Glory and My Mother's Castle: Memories of Childhood