Quotes About Fragrance

She could smell the sea in the air, but more than that, she could smell the scent of the grass as it awoke from its winter slumber. She could hear the sound of crickets as they sang to the emerging stars.

They clomp together through the narrow streets, Marie-Laure's hand on the back of Madame's apron, following the odors of her stews and cakes; in such moments Madame seems like a great moving wall of rosebushes, thorny and fragrant and crackling with bees.

If I, the boiling water, And you, the tea; Then your fragrance Has to depend solely upon my plainness.... I have to be hot, even boiled Before we consume each other....

There is a popular saying, "More rare than pine is the smell of pining"—which is rare indeed, for there are few pine trees in this part of the Ozarks.

Without bitterest cold that penetrates to the very bone, how can plum blossoms send forth their fragrance all over the world?

I love the smell of shampoo on a girl's hair. You can walk past someone and be like, 'Wow, you took a shower this morning, didn't you? Because you smell lovely.'

If I closed my eyes, I could almost count those soft hairs on the back of her neck. One day I'd even leaned forward, pretending to drop my pencil, and inhaled her until the top of my head started to steam. A scent of butterscotch wafted off of her, and it was all I could do not to plunge my face into her shag.

He looked down at her and caught a whiff of the honeysuckle fragrance of her hair. God, how he loved that smell. He'd planted fourteen honeysuckle bushes around his estate in Crestwood five years ago just to have a tiny piece of her there with him.

Ravic speaking of a butterfly caught in the Louvre) In the morning it would search for flowers and life and the light honey of blossoms and would not find them and later it would fall asleep on millennial marble, weakened by then, until the grip of the delicate, tenacious feet loosened and it fell, a thin leaf of premature autumn.

The mist was like a faint perfume.

I felt today when the night melted away into a flowering bush and the wind smelled of strawberries and without love one is only a dead man on furlough, nothing but a scrap of paper with a few dates and a chance name on it and one might as well die

He had collapsed like a rotten tree.

What hast thou against the onion? The odor. Nothing more. Otherwise it is like the rose.

Mary's extremely nice cousin had given us two small square sacking-covered pillows filled with balsam needles. I always slept with mine under my neck or, if I slept on my side, with my ear on it. It was the smell of Michigan when I was a boy and I wished I could have had a sweet-grass basket to keep it in when we traveled and to have under the mosquito net in the bed at night.

The odor of citronella is not offensive to people. It smells like gun oil. But the bugs do hate it.

When she looked at a rose she savoured its beauty, they counted the petals.

A beautiful bouquet or a long-lasting flowering plant is a traditional gift for women, but I have recommended that both men and women keep fresh flowers in the home for their beauty, fragrance, and the lift they give our spirits.

She was warm and smelt like a wet sparrow.

Lentement, en silence, au milieu du parfum de la menthe, de la sauge et des orties, ils descendirent vers la rivière Soupir. En suivant l'escalier. Le long d'un ruisseau qui se nommait Murmure.   ***

eyelashes. She smelled of ambergris, roses, library dust, decayed paper, minium and printing ink, oak gall ink, and strychnine, which was being used to poison the library mice. The smell had little in common with an aphrodisiac. So it was all the stranger that it worked on him. 'Don't

The lilies i always associate with him; that are white. And stain you.

His tobacco had a richly herbal smell, as though it was good for you.

I find it difficult to sleep. A sort of daydream, perhaps, reliving old times, trying to capture something of her, while there's still a flavour of her in the house. It's real, you know. A perfume. The shampoo she used, I think. Something else I can't pin down. I know it won't last for long.

The snowdrop and primrose our woodlands adorn, and violets bathe in the wet o' the morn.