Quotes About Perfume

Old women should not seek to be perfumed.

I actually use women's perfume - I have since I was a kid. It's called Anais Anais, from Rachael. It smells like a beautiful woman and a bouquet of flowers. I use that and Right Guard deodorant.

I would quite like to create a fragrance for men though - something that I like.

The hedge beside him was full of orange hips where the wild roses had been, and darker red clusters of berries from the hawthorns, which had been covered with white blossoms, like snowdrifts in the spring. The perfume was almost too heavy. He

In the spring of 1988, I returned to New Orleans, and as soon as I smelled the air, I knew I was home. It was rich, almost sweet, like the scent of jasmine and roses around our old courtyard. I walked the streets, savoring that long lost perfume.

For several long moments we remained locked together, and I think I covered her hair with small sacred kisses, her perfume crucifying me with memories.

It was as though on the smell of the rain came her perfume still, and in the empty theater I could hear the throb of her beating heart.

You can't smell shite in this cesspit of cheap alcohol, oversprayed perfume, and animal stench. (Dare) Oh see, there you're wrong. I live in this cesspit. Picking out the scent of shit is my specialty, and, Brother, you reek of it. So if I were you, I'd tell me what you did, or I'm going to turn you in to the Peltier bears. (Fury)

When I leave the hall, I smell her before I see her, a scent that should be perfume. I know it is not.

A Gallic-nosed fellow, slight with silver-shot dark curls and dark eyes, brushed rudely past them just as Jack returned from the top of the plank. He reeked of vertiver and musk; Jack's nose wrinkled as he passed, and he half-smiled at himself to realize how accustomed he'd become to the Puritan cleanliness of American colonials, and their aversion to heavy perfumes.

He leaned closer, for all he willed himself not to, feeling her power, the serpent's hypnotic romance. Her perfume should have dizzied him, but suddenly all he could smell was the clean animal heat of the unicorn.

My grandmother used to really love fashion, and she always had Chanel No. 5 on her dressing table, and Chanel bags. That's when I really started falling in love with the brand and fashion in general.

The heartfelt counsel of a friend is sweet as perfume and incense. —Proverbs 27:9

Here Rose the Graced, not Rose the Chaste, reposes; The scent that rises is no scent of roses.

When I eat cilantro, it's like someone sprayed perfume down my throat. It closes up my throat, even if there's only a little piece. I like Mexican food, and I'll go out to a Mexican restaurant and tell them, 'Look, I will die if you get cilantro in my food.' Then there's always that one little piece that falls in, and I gag.

And with precious and royal perfume you anointed yourself.

The air smelled like a mélange of everyone's perfume and hair products, with a slight undertone of booze.

Perfume acts as an anesthetic. By the time she floats a little your way, you'll promise her anything.

Smell is the closest thing human beings have to a time machine.

Fragrance takes you on a journey of time. You can walk down the street and pass someone and get taken back 20 years. It's very Proustian that way.

The Imam and his priests were due to speak to the people at midnight. Feisal intended holding them spellbound and enthralled with his words, whipping them to a fevered pitch of holy frenzy in which they would lose all thought for themselves or for others and exist only for the God. In such a state the smoke of the burning bodies of butchered women and children would not stink with the foulness of murder but would be sweetest perfume and rise like incense to the heavens.

He smells pleasantly of English cigarettes, expensive perfume, honey, his skin has taken on the scent of silk, the fruity smell of silk tussore, the smell of gold . . .

The river's name, Huong, evokes the pleasing scent of incense or the pink and white petals that float downstream in autumn from orchards to the north. The Americans called it the Perfume River.

Her smile, when she condescended to smile, was very sweet,—lighting up her whole face and flattering for the moment the person on whom it shone. It was as though a rose in emitting its perfume could confine itself to the nostrils of its one favoured friend. And