Pepper And Cotton Quotes

His scent is intensified in here perfectly, baked by summer, preserved by snow, sealed and pressurized inside glass and metal. I inhale like a professional perfumer. Top notes of mint, bitter coffee, and cotton. Mid notes of black pepper and pine. Base notes of leather and cedar. Luxurious as cashmere. If this is what his car smells like, imagine his bed. Good idea. Imagine his bed. He

The soft aroma of old worn cotton from a linen chest, the lingering smell of tobacco on an angora sweater; Jergen's hand lotion, sauteed green peppers and onions; the sweet, nutty smell of peanut butter and bananas, the oaken smell of good bourbon. A combination of lily of the valley, cedar, vanilla, and somewhere, the lingering of old rose. These smells are older than any thought. Mama, Teensy, Neecie, and Caro, each one of them had an individual scent, to be sure. But this is the Gumbo of their scents. This is the Gumbo Ya-Ya. This is the internal vial of perfume I carry with me everywhere I go.

In Italy you learned cunning, but in Antwerp, flexibility. And besides, the shopping! Just step out of your door and you can get a diamond or a broom, you can get knives, candlesticks and keys, ironwork to suit the expert eye. They make soap and glass, they cure fish and they deal in alum and promissory notes. You can buy pepper and ginger, aniseed and cumin, saffron and rice, almonds and figs; you can buy vats and pots, combs and mirrors, cotton and silk, aloes and myrrh.

Elijah blinked in dazzling sunlight and took a deep breath. The sweet-pepper scent of meadow grass told him immediately where he was. Winded, he skidded to a halt as the portal spat him out. Above him stretched skies of cornflower blue, dotted with threadbare white clouds sailing over like cotton galleons on the summer breeze.

Story, my foot.  Everybody knows Dr Pepper’s got prune juice in it.  My grandpop drank it every day at ten, two and four, and he lived to be ninety-eight years old, and everybody said it was because the Dr Pepper kept him regular.  He didn’t even quit from his diabetes.  He died in an elevator accident.

Trees were erected by German immigrants in Texas in the 1840s, and by the 1850s they had become naturalized and were decorated with local produce: moss, cotton, pecans, red pepper swags and, an American innovation, the popcorn string, as well as Old World red berries, biscuits and sweets.

After Russell left her house that morning, Claire was a cooking fool. She finished making fig and pepper bread, and started in on soup. Simmering soup on a cold day was like filling a house with cotton batting. The comforting scent of it plumped and muffled and cuddled. She went on to make egg custard tarts for dessert, longing for pansies to place on top to decorate them.

Light shone through my brain at the realization. I’m not a sweet, innocent girl who wants cotton candy and sonnets. I’m a fighter, a slut, a woman who needed to be taught her own body.

barely inside the fairgrounds you could smell hot dogs, frying peppers and onions, bacon, cotton candy, sawdust, and sweet, aromatic horseshit.

Raw Cotton, the Dutch senseless slavery of pepper and salt.

Tobacco, pepper of cotton; it's all the harvest by gracious fingers of one good slave!

Tobacco, pepper or cotton; it's all the harvest by gracious fingers of one good slave!

Benford wasted an hour playacting, trying to convince these two congressional bivalves that the operation had merit. By then, time was up, and Benford had avoided briefing his most sensitive cases—for today. It was a dodge that would work only once. The next day, Forsyth briefed VADM Rowland. Benford had suggested that Forsyth turn on a little of his salt-and-pepper charm to see if the dour three-striper would react to him. Forsyth later grumpily reported that mildly flirting with the admiral was like throwing cotton balls at riveted steel plate. “Christ,” said Forsyth. “I wore my dark suit with the