The studio was filled with the rich odour of roses, and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden, there came through the open door the heavy scent of the lilac, or the more delicate perfume of the pink-flowering thorn.
Oscar WildeWould you be in any way offended if I said that you seem to me to be in every way the visible personification of absolute perfection?
Oscar Wilde