“Bees do have a smell, you know, and if they don't they should, for their feet are dusted with spices from a million flowers.”

“You are like one of your bees, going from flower to flower, sampling the nectar of this and that.”

“I do not ask that flowers should always spring
Beneath my feet
I know too well the poison and the sting
Of things too sweet.”

“The bee and the serpent often sip from the selfsame flower.”

“The flower doesn’t dream of the bee. It blossoms and the bee comes.”

“Bee, why are you staring at me? I am not a flower??”

“Handle a book as a bee does a flower, extract its sweetness but do not damage it.”

“I smell fennel,” Launcelot said. “That reminds me, I should tell you I have discovered a specific for maims. You take salt, good-quality river mud, and bee urine, and slather it on the maim and hold it there for two days. Works like a charm. Gathering the bee urine is a bit of a bore.”

“When you have a full bouquet you can't sit back and smell each flower.”

“Once you get a spice in your home, you have it forever. Women never throw out spices. The Egyptians were buried with their spices. I know which one I'm taking with me when I go.”