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Quote by P.D. James

“[Soho] is all things to all men, catering comprehensively for those needs which money can buy. You see it as you wish. An agreeable place to dine; a cosmopolitan village tucked away behind Piccadilly with its own mysterious village life, one of the best shopping centres for food in London, the nastiest and most sordid nursery of crime in Europe. Even the travel journalists, obsessed by its ambiguities, can't make up their minds.”

Quote by P.D. James

Book:Unnatural Causes
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Unnatural Causes

Unnatural Causes delves into the interplay between environmental influences and various health conditions, exploring the impact of external factors on human well-being. more

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P.D. James

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“The spiraling flights of moths appear haphazard only because of the mechanisms of olfactory tracking are so different from our own. Using binocular vision, we judge the location of an object by comparing the images from two eyes and tracking directly toward the stimulus. But for species relying on the sense of smell, the organism compares points in space, moves in the direction of the greater concentration, then compares two more points successively, moving in zigzags toward the source. Using olfactory navigation the moth detects currents of scent in the air and, by small increments, discovers how to move upstream.”

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Book:Prodigal Summer
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“The sight of my mother's handwriting on the slips of paper and in the margins of the book causes me to inhale sharply, and for a moment I smell licorice, as if the mere sight of her heavily styled penmanship has produced an olfactory hallucination. It's a delicate smell, more like anise or fresh tarragon than the sugary smell of a licorice pastille. Smell, I remember my mother once telling me, is the most powerful of the senses. Without it, there is no taste. Long ago I lost the memory of her face, the sound of her voice, the touch of her fingers. But I can still remember her smell, in the aroma of a sherry reduction, the perfume, delicate and faint, that lingers on your hands after you've run them through a hedge of rosemary, the pungent assault of a Gauloises cigarette. Any of a thousand smells are enough to conjure her memory.”

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Book:Aftertaste: A Novel in Five Courses
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“Again Polly remembered all the notes in this perfume from the event earlier, and enjoyed waiting for each one to register in the olfactory bulb in the front of her brain, while her imagination did its own thing. The neroli, jasmine and sandalwood transported her to a summer night in the south of France, wearing a crisp white shirt- this was a much fresher chypre than the first one. Then she remembered she'd sprayed this one on her wrist during the event earlier and lifted it to her nose to see how it developed since then. Suddenly, out of nowhere: David. Her eyes snapped open. Coal tar? "Has this got guaiac wood in it?" she asked Lucien, not caring if it interfered with his testing of Guy. Lucien smiled broadly. "Yes," he said, "but very, very deep inside, it's a base note, as you would know. Your nose is very good, Polly." Guy grasped her wrist and brought it to his nose. "It's just under the bergamot and before the honeysuckle," he said, opening his eyes.”

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Book:The Scent of You
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“Like others who had once enjoyed an elite lifestyle, Lucy craved its return and whenever opportunity arrived, attempted to recreate it...By then no one questioned Lucy's role as the reigning hostess of celebrations, a role she continued to hold in public celebrations during the early Federal period.”

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Book:Defiant Brides: The Untold Story of Two Revolutionary-Era Women and the Radical Men They Married
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