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dc13304
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He who controls the spice controls the universe.
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spice
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Frank Herbert |
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3d740c7
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Each spice has a special day to it. For turmeric it is Sunday, when light drips fat and butter-colored into the bins to be soaked up glowing, when you pray to the nine planets for love and luck.
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turmeric
spice
sunday
luck
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Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni |
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27aaab4
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Fenugreek, Tuesday's spice, when the air is green like mosses after rain.
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rain
tuesday
spice
green
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Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni |
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01046c6
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Fennel, which is the spice for Wednesdays, the day of averages, of middle-aged people. . . . Fennel . . . smelling of changes to come.
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fennel
wednesday
spice
transition
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Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni |
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5d47a88
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Chili, spice of red Thursday, which is the day of reckoning. Day which invites us to pick up the sack of our existence and shake it inside out. Day of suicide, day of murder.
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spice
thursday
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Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni |
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c4e3492
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One of Francie's favorite stores was the one which sold nothing but tea, coffee, and spices. It was an exciting place of rows of lacquered bins and strange, romantic, exotics odors. There were a dozen scarlet coffee bins with adventurous words written across the front in black China ink: Brazil! Argentine! Turkish! Java! Mixed Blend! The tea was in smaller bins: beautiful bins with sloping covers. They read: Oolong! Formosa! Orange Pekoe! Black China! Flowering Almond! Jasmine! Irish Tea! The spices were in miniature bins behind the counter. Their names marches in a row across the shelves: cinnamon-- cloves-- ginger-- all-spice-- ball nutmeg--curry-- peppercorns-- sage-- thyme-- marjoram.
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spice
odors
store
tea
mysterious
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Betty Smith |