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Apothecary Quotes

Browse 22 quotes about Apothecary.

Apothecary Quotes

“At the door to the shop, a bell tinkled, and moments later they seemed to enter the very flowering of lavender. The scent was all around them; it curled and diffused in the air with a sweet warmth and subtlety, then burst with a peppery, musky intensity. The blind girls moved into another room. There they arranged themselves expectantly around a long wooden table, Mme Musset welcomed them, and a cork was pulled with a squeaky pop. "This is pure essence of lavender, grown on the Valensole plateau," said Madame. "It is in a glass bottle I am sending around to the right for you all to smell. Be patient, and you will get your turn." Other scents followed: rose and mimosa and oil of almond. Now that they felt more relaxed, some of the other girls started being silly, pretending to sniff too hard and claiming the liquid leapt up at them. Marthe remained silent and composed, concentrating hard. Then came the various blends: the lavender and rosemary antiseptic, the orange and clove scent for the house in winter, the liqueur with the tang of juniper that made Marthe unexpectedly homesick for her family's farming hamlet over the hills to the west, where as a child she had been able to see brightness and colors and precise shapes of faces and hills and fruits and flowers.”

“Better still [than pure sugar] was the remedy known as theriac, the root of the English word 'treacle,' which was kept in ornate ceramic jars on the shelves of every self-respecting apothecary shop. The name comes from the Greek therion, meaning 'venomous animal,' for theriac was supposed in Classical times to counteract all venoms and poisons.”

“She hadn’t realized the outbuilding— like a sunroom— was connected to the house, and it was a piece of heaven for Saoirse. This was the apothecary to end all apothecaries— a glass-walled sanctuary most definitely infused with magic. The dappled morning light poured through the deceptively tall glass walls and ceiling. Every branch and leaf seemed to stretch toward the light, searching for its warmth and light. The space itself was an airy rectangle, bursting with greenery. On the two shorter, angled walls were multitiered potting tables, each layer crowded with voluminous herbs, delicate blossoms, and trailing vines that cascaded over the edges. The longer glass wall had a counter-height table that ran its full length. Clay pots, glass beakers, and neatly labeled tins cluttered the top. Even the outside seemed to want in, with the leaves still clinging to the trees outside brushing against the glass. On the opposite side was a brick wall lined with open shelves from floor to ceiling. Rowan tracked jars of every shape and size on the shelves. They were filled with dried herbs, amber and emerald oils, crushed petals, powdered roots, and mystery mixtures just waiting for Saoirse to use them. Possibility. It was the only word that came to mind. This apothecary held a world of possibilities for Saoirse. With everything at her fingertips, her sister could spend a lifetime crafting healing potions, infusing them into soaps, lotions, and balms. Saoirse stood in the center of the room, arms wide. She whirled around. “Isn’t it perfect?” she squealed, pushing her glasses up. She wrapped her arms around herself. “I was just wandering around and it’s like a magnet pulled me to this room. My room.”

“Advertisements are of great use to the vulgar. First of all, as they are instruments of ambition. A man that is by no means big enough for the Gazette, may easily creep into the advertisements; by which means we often see an apothecary in the same paper of news with a plenipotentiary, or a running footman with an ambassador.”