Petrichor Quotes

“Ada luka sumbing serupa gempil bibir poci di hati semua orang. Cacat yang berusaha keras mereka sembunyikan dari dunia. Tapi tak semestinya kita mengenakan topeng hanya demi menutup secebis luka. Tak semua hal mesti kita cerna dengan tatapan mata curiga serupa itu. Maka dari itu, coba dengarkan apa kata Bundamu ini, Nak. Manusia tak perlu harus jadi sempurna agar ia dihargai. Sebagaimana keindahan bisa muncul dari hal kecil dan sederhana. Termasuk apa yang tampak pada selembar kain batik yang lusuh atau cangkir teh yang somplak ujungnya.

Kita bisa belajar dari kintsugi, menjadi bijak tanpa harus bergegas menjadi tua; bagaimana menorehkan pernis emas pada sebuah cawan tembikar yang terlanjur retak. Betapa sesungguhnya, sebuah guci porselen yang jatuh, pecah dan bahkan rusak tak berarti kehilangan semua nilai yang dimilikinya. Ketidaksempurnaan tidak akan mengecilkan arti dirimu. Sebab hanya ketangguhanmu melewati bukit penderitaanlah yang akan membuatmu menemukan cahaya kebahagiaan yang sesungguhnya.

Bagaimana kamu bisa belajar menghargai kekurangan pada diri sendiri. Bagaimana kamu bisa menerima kesalahan dan bahkan kegagalan. Sebagaimana alam memaknai wabi sabi, ketidak sempurnaan bukan sesuatu yang harus ditolak atau disangkal. Ia mesti disambut sebagai air telaga yang jernih, kesegaran embun di pagi hari, atau aroma petrichor di musim penghujan.

Setiap kali engkau jatuh dan menjadi rapuh, engkau bisa merangkaikan kembali serpihan serpihan hatimu. Tak akan pernah kehilangan tujuan yang engkau perjuangkan. Sebab setiap bekas luka seperti juga keringat dan airmata, adalah permata yang lahir dari segenap jerih payahmu. Ia terlalu berharga untuk kamu sia siakan. Manik manik gemerlap yang dapat engkau rangkai menjadi perhiasan unik nan cantik yang akan selamanya jadi milikmu.

Jangan pernah takut terantuk batu.
Jangan sekalinya jeri dicerca burung. Jangan merasa ngeri terempas badai. Sebab saat nanti engkau sampai ke puncak, kau akan bisa melihat dunia sebagai miniatur lanskap yang permai dan elok untuk dikenang. Karena demikianlah semestinya hidup, ia adalah keindahan yang tercipta dari kekurangan dan ketidaksempurnaan diri kita.”
― Titon Rahmawan

“The smell of dry earth, opening to the rain in the spring. It unlocked me like a key.
Once upon a time, Emmeline.
"Petrichor," Rene said. "The word comes from petra, which means stones, and ichor, the ethereal blood of the Greek gods. Plants release an oil that stops their seeds from germinating when it would be too difficult to survive. The oil soaks into the pores of the stones, and is set free with water. They say it's the smell of waiting, paid off.”
― Erica Bauermeister, The Scent Keeper

“Whenever it rains, and its earthy scent -- the petrichor -- hits my senses, memories come flashing and I go back in time.”
― Shon Mehta

“When we think of our life story, we don't think of the years, nor the days. We think of the precious moments which make life a life.”
― Shon Mehta

“Wind was in haste. As she turned into Nsuuta's courtyard the clouds started to spit sparse but sturdy gobs. They hit the ground hard and dried promptly. The earth emitted that delicious but fleeting scent, the one when the rain first touches it. She closed her eyes, but by the time she tilted her head to suck it, the wind had whipped it away. The rain came down as if being chased. She ran.”
― Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi, A Girl Is a Body of Water

“Petrichor is the earth unearthing itself on a rainy day.”
― Michael Bassey Johnson, Night of a Thousand Thoughts

“If I was to be limited to the memories of smell
I would elaborate for you the brightness of
Sagebrush in the rain
Sun-soaked brows of laughing children
Suburb lawns infused with lilac...”
― Cheryl Seely Savage, Carve a Place for Me

“The heavens opened and there was a thunderstorm. The rain hammered on the windscreen and the wipers became frantic in their efforts to push it away; headlights came on everywhere and the spray from tyres seemed to be going in all directions at once. It was going to be short and sharp, and so Smith pulled up in the road outside Woodlands where he’d waited once before, giving the rain a minute or two to cease. He wound down the windows a little and the smell of it wafted into the car – petrichor, the magical scent released when the golden blood of the gods touches the arid rocks of the earth. The older you get, he thought, the more evocative such things become. It smells like a secret.”
― Peter Grainger, The Camera Man

“Iris had recently learned there was a word for the scent of rain: petrichor, a pleasant, refreshing note with a cool mineral glint--- but this rainwater wasn't running through green grass or skipping over smooth river rocks.”
― Francesca Serritella, Full Bloom