See where she comes, and smell how all the street,
Breathes vineyards and pomegranates: oh, how sweet!
As a fired altar is each stone,
Perspiring pounded cinnamon.
The phoenix-nest,
Built up of odours, burneth in her breast.
Who therein would not consume
His soul to ash-heaps in that rich perfume,
~Robert Herrick, A Nuptial Song, or Epithalamie, on Sir Clipseby Crew and His Lady (l. 21-28)
Perfume follows you; it chases you and lingers behind you. It’s a reference mark. Perfume makes silence talk.
~Sonia Rykiel
Perfume is a delicate balance between irrational, hedonistic and technical elements.
~François Demachy
It is a perfume designed to be worn on a rainy Tuesday morning, standing in a crowded suburban train full of people on their way to work, each nursing a sleepy dream of early retirement while avoiding the others' glances.
~Luca Turin, Perfumes: The Guide, Page 44
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They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps.
~William Shakespeare