Related products

• 

  Inez Perfume Oil

  Golden amber, vanilla musk, myrrh, cedar, carnation, and red sandalwood.

  Add to cart
• 

  Apostrophe of Time Perfume Oil

  O fleeting Time! whence art thou come?
  And whither do thy footsteps tend?
  Deep in the past where was thy home,
  And where thy future journey’s end?

  Thou art from vast eternity,
  And unto boundless regions found;
  But what and where’s infinity?
  And what know we of space unbound?

  The furrowed brow betokens age;
  But who thy centuries can tell?
  Was ancient seer or learned sage
  In wisdom’s lore e’er versed so well?

  Hast thou from childhood wandered thus,
  Companionless and lone, through space,
  With mystery o’er thy exodus,
  And darkness ’round thy resting place.

  What lengthened years have come and gone,
  Since thou thy tireless march began,
  Since Luna’s children sang at dawn,
  The wonders of creation’s plan?

  How many years of gloom and night
  Had passed, long ere yon king of day
  Had reigned his fiery steeds of light,
  And sped them on their shining way?

  Thou knowest — Thou alone, O thou!
  Omniscient and eternal Three!
  To whose broad eye all time is now —
  The past, with all eternity;

  In whose dread presence I shall stand,
  When time shall sink to rise no more,
  In that broad sea of thy command,
  Whose waves roll on, without a shore.
  – James Madison Bell

  The overwhelming incalculability of space, the glow and fade of countless days, the starry expanse of night. A scent that reaches into eternity and towards forever: glittering bergamot, lemon peel, and golden amber, star-flecked labdanum, neroli, and clary sage.

  Add to cart
• 

  Miel Et Ambre Hair Gloss

  Add to cart
• 

  Mr. Jacquel Perfume Oil

  Shadow looked up at the creature. “Mr. Jacquel?” he said.

  The hands of Anubis came down, huge dark hands, and they picked Shadow up and brought him close.

  The jackal head examined him with bright and glittering eyes; examined him as dispassionately as Mr. Jacquel had examined the dead girl on the slab. Shadow knew that all his faults, all his failings, all his weaknesses were being taken out and weighed and measured; that he was, in some way, being dissected, and sliced, and tasted.

  We do not remember the things that do no credit to us. We justify them, cover them in bright lies or with the thick dust of forgetfulness. All of the things that Shadow had done in his life of which he was not proud, all the things he wished he had done otherwise or left undone, came at him then in a swirling storm of guilt and regret and shame, and he had nowhere to hide from them. He was as naked and as open as a corpose on a table, and dark Anubis the jackal god was his prosector and his prosecutor and his persecutor.

  “Please,” said Shadow. “Please stop.”

  But the examination did not stop. Every lie he had ever told, every object he had stolen, every hurt he had inflicted on another person, all the little crimes and the tiny murders that make up the day, each of these things and more were extracted and held up to the light by the jackal-headed judge of the dead.

  Golden amber, hyssop, North African patchouli, and embalming spices.

  Out of Stock