The man breathed in deeply—of rosebuds and mint, of sunny meadows and salty cliffs, of streams in no hurry and the sound of bagpipes. – Ethel Pochocki, Wildflower Tea, 1993
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…creases like the leathern boot of Tartar horsemen, curl like the dewlap of a mighty bullock, unfold like a mist rising out of a ravine, gleam like a lake touched by a zephyr, and be wet and soft like a forest floor newly swept by rain. – Luwuh, Chaking, regarding selection of the best quality tea leaves
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