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  My Soul Acquiesced in It Perfume Oil

  A strange melancholy was stealing over me, a melancholy that I would not have interrupted. Dim thoughts of death began to open, and an idea that I was slowly sinking took gentle, and, somehow, not unwelcome, possession of me. If it was sad, the tone of mind which this induced was also sweet.

  Whatever it might be, my soul acquiesced in it.

  Melancholic white rose petals drifting in a pool of white musk, bitter almond, and icy vanilla.
  

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  Ruins of Karnstein Perfume Oil

  “It was a bad family, and here its bloodstained annals were written,” he continued. “It is hard that they should, after death, continue to plague the human race with their atrocious lusts.”

  Palatial grandeur in ruins, its decrepit majesty poised in the liminal space between decay and beauty. A haunting memory of all-consuming desire: the rich, earthy depth of oud, vetiver, and moss, grounded in the untamed wilds of the forest, echoing the ancient stones that remain.
  

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  Smiling Melancholy Perfume Oil

  There was a coldness, it seemed to me, beyond her years, in her smiling melancholy persistent refusal to afford me the least ray of light.

  Distant, enigmatic, shadowed: delicate heliotrope and pale rose petals, muted and soft, resting atop a chilly, intimate base that blends white musk, cashmere woods, and a touch of tonka bean.

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  Strange Paroxysms of Languid Adoration Perfume Oil

  Carmilla became more devoted to me than ever, and her strange paroxysms of languid adoration more frequent. She used to gloat on me with increasing ardor the more my strength and spirits waned. This always shocked me like a momentary glare of insanity.
  
  Parasitic intoxication: narcissus, opium poppy, and red orchid veiled in heliotrope, blush sandalwood, and crushed violet.

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