Damask Quotes

“Suddenly Damask found herself staring down at the flowers through a dazzle of tears. The words sounded so innocent and so disarming - she remembered that she hadn't wanted to come through the beautiful woods at all; and there was no danger, nothing wrong except the wickedness of her own heart. She looked at Danny's big, brown, work-scarred hands gently gathering the flowers and her love for him was a physical pain. Oh, how she loved him; how she wished that he would ask her to marry him!”
― Norah Lofts, Afternoon of an Autocrat

“The room was dark, though weak autumnal light filtered in through arched windows high on the walls, illuminating the room's rich aubergine brocade wallpaper. Its color cast a soft violet haze that floated through the bedroom, twinkling the huge diamond-shaped crystals that dropped from two immense, many-tiered silver chandeliers. They were larger than any I had ever seen, things out of a palace or a fairy tale. An imposing, heavily carved wardrobe, which looked as if it had been in place since the early fifteenth century, faced the bed where I lay. Beside it on the wall hung a large bronze shield with an iron French cross at its center, crowned by a gilded fleur-de-lis with a dazzling gemstone in the middle of the petal. Large portraits of nude ladies, odalisques that looked as if an Italian master- Titian, perhaps?- had painted them graced the adjacent wall. A heavy crystal vase of white long-stemmed roses sat on a table at the bedside, their petals tight, but their sweet perfume filling the air, mingling with the aroma of fresh baked bread.
I ran my hands down my body. I was not in my own nightdress but in a pale green gown of fine quality damask silk with a triangular neckline and long, full sleeves that cupped my wrists, draping white lace over my hands to the fingers. I had never seen such a rich garment. I imagined it was something that the queen's daughters would have worn.”
― Karen Essex, Dracula in Love

“A sweet aroma blooms in the mouth like a fresh flower, while the tongue dances with delight at the crispy crunchiness of the apple! Just one bite and I've already fallen into a fantasyland!"
"Not only that, this fragrance! It's precisely what I thought! It's 'Damask Rose'!"
"Damask rose? Like, actual roses?"
"Yep! These roses right here. They're one of my favoritest flowers. They have such a pretty scent."
Even out of the many thousands of rose varieties in the world, the Damask is renowned for its beautiful fragrance! In fact, some people even call it the 'Queen of Roses'! An ancient strain, it's said even Cleopatra enjoyed damask roses, sprinkling their petals in her bath.”
― Yuto Tsukuda, 食戟のソーマ 28 [Shokugeki no Souma 28]

“Normally men don't really listen all that well. You can mention that you like apricots, or The Cure, or kittens, and it just goes out of their heads the minute it's out of your mouth. I personally seize on these clues about people. For example, I know that Sasha loves the smell of violets, and that Rose enjoys novels of a bodice-ripping nature and walks for exercise and has a Siamese cat called Dr. Oodles, but if I'd asked Dan what his best friend had studied at college- where they were roommates- he would have no idea.
Anyway, Edward was apparently different, because he'd sent me a gorgeous bouquet of roses that filled the room with an intense, sweetly lemony, rosy smell that was mind-blowing. The roses themselves were a rich cream and stuffed with petals that made them look like roses in paintings.
Sasha was looking at me.
"Well, you must have done something pretty amazing last night. I've been sketching these since I got in. They're the most gorgeous Madame Hardys I've seen in a long time." I could see she had also been getting her shit together; there were open cartons on her desk, and she'd brought her portfolio to the office.
"Aren't they roses?" I was bending down, sniffing deeply. I looked for a card.
Sasha laughed. "The name of the rose is Madame Hardy. It's a damask rose, and one of the most famous old roses available these days. Someone knows their flowers.”
― Abbi Waxman, The Garden of Small Beginnings

“Elizabeth gazed at the dress. It was one of her favorites, cut from pale-pink silk damask, with a tight-fitting bodice that sat low on her shoulders, designed to show her creamy décolletage to its best advantage. Silk-covered buttons fastened at the back and a sumptuous bustled skirt was caught up in a bow to reveal ivory satin beneath. Ostrich feathers, dyed to match the damask, waved at each capped sleeve.”
― Kayte Nunn, The Botanist's Daughter