Quotes About Fragrance

'Tis liberty alone that gives the flower Of fleeting life its lustre and perfume; And we are weeds without it.

Honesty that can be trusted and respected is a very fragrant flower in the life of a Christian.

'My Life' is soft, with notes of pear and gardenia, but still bold, with a woody base.

Tulips were a tray of jewels.

Always keep that happy attitude. Pretend that you are holding a beautiful fragrant bouquet.

A znate li zašto se jasmini koji se stavljaju u stru?ke beru rano izjutra, kada su još zatvoreni?" "Jer tako jasmini ne zaboravljaju svoje snove. Ako ih donesete ku?i i stavite u srebrnu posudu, polako se otvaraju, sje?aju se no?i i šap?u vam bijele snove.

Life without love is like a world without flowers

The viol, the violet, and the vine.

from the big tobacco barns there welled forth a fragrance that was for these Kentuckians, the soul of autumn. Oozing out into the sunshine from every crack in the great structures, it exhilarated like an elixir, like a long draught of some rich, spicy wine.

Roses red and violets blue,And all the sweetest flowers, that in the forest grew.

Her birth was of the womb of morning dew.

The breath of dying lilies haunted the twilight air.

This book, when I am dead, will be A little faint perfume of me. People who knew me well will say, She really used to think that way.

The odor of burning juniper is the sweetest fragrance on the face of the earth, in my honest judgment; I doubt if all the smoking censers of Dante's paradise could equal it. One breath of juniper smoke, like the perfume of sagebrush after rain, evokes in magical catalysis, like certain music, the space and light and clarity and piercing strangeness of the American West. Long may it burn.

The fire. The odor of burning juniper is the sweetest fragrance on the face of the earth, in my honest judgment; I doubt if all the smoking censers of Dante's paradise could equal it. One breath of juniper smoke, like the perfume of sagebrush after rain, evokes in magical catalysis, like certain music, the space and light and clarity and piercing strangeness of the American West. Long may it burn.

Is a man satisfied, merely because he is perfumed himself, to mingle with a malodorous crowd?

There's something about an Aqua Velva man.

Make haste, my beloved, and be thou like to a roe or to a young hart upon the mountains of spices.

Each fairy breath of summer, as it blows with loveliness, inspires the blushing rose.

Une pendule inlocalisable perdue parmi les ténèbres des armoires laissait s'égoutter des heures étouffées dans un quelconque couloir lointain encombré de malles de bois précieux et conduisant à des chambres raides et humides où le cadavre de Proust flottait encore, éparpillant dans l'air raréfié un relent usé d'enfance.

From somewhere comes the sound of fire: the sound of dried roses being crumbled in a fist.

All summer the smells of nettles and daisies and rainwater purl through the gardens.

Tatal ei radiaza o mie de culori, opal, rosu-capsuna, ruginiu-inchis, verde crud; un miros de ulei si metal, senzatia de cheie potrivita in yala, zornaitul cheilor lui pe inel in timp ce merge.

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. Still-warm