Theo James Quotes

Of the women in my childhood, I retain above all the memory of their perfumes, perfumes that lingered - filling the lift with fragrance long after they had gone.

There is nothing like an odor to stir memories.

Smell is a potent wizard that transports you across thousands of miles and all the years you have lived.

Men still wear cologne, but I wish they wouldn't. No matter what you may believe, all men's fragrances smell like the air freshener in a taxi.

The sense of smell is the hair-trigger of memory.

Smell is a potent wizard that transports you across thousands of miles and all the years you have lived. The odors of fruits waft me to my southern home, to my childhood frolics in the peach orchard. Other odors, instantaneous and fleeting, cause my heart to dilate joyously or contract with remembered grief. Even as I think of smells, my nose is full of scents that start awake sweet memories of summers gone and ripening fields far away.

Scent is the strongest tie to memory.

I think allure is something around you, like a perfume or like a scent. It's like a memory ... it pervades.

For the sense of smell, almost more than any other, has the power to recall memories and it's a pity we use it so little.

Smell is important. It reminds a person of all the things he's been through; it is a sheath of memories and security.

Any fool knows men and women think differently at times, but the biggest difference is this. Men forget, but never forgive; women forgive, but never forget.

Smells, like music, hold memories. She breathed deep, and bottled it up for posterity.

But it was smell that carried memory.

All this, all of this love we're talking about, it would just be a memory. Maybe not even a memory. Am I wrong? Am I way off base? Because I want you to set me straight if you think I'm wrong. I want to know. I mean, I don't know anything, and I'm the first one to admit it.

Men go to the theatre to forget; women, to remember.

I wish they made fajita cologne, because that stuff smells good. What's that you're wearing? That's sizzlin'!

A great love is a lot like a good memory. When it's there, and you know it's there, but its just out of your reach, it can be all that you think about. And you can focus on it, and try to force it. But the more that you do, the more you seem to push it away. But if you're patient, and hold still...Maybe. Just maybe, it'll come to you.

I sit beside the fire and think of people long ago, and of people who will see a world that I shall never know.

The camera is a mirror with a memory, but it cannot think.

Fragrance is an incredibly intimate thing. It can evoke very specific thoughts or memories and is a little different for each person who wears it. I also think it's the most accessible luxury.

Depending on their fondest memory of you, most people hold on so tightly to their fondest memory they don’t usually let you be anything greater than that. And that’s one of the things I think I allowed myself to be a victim of earlier in my career. What I learned as I got older is I decide. I decide what it’s like for me, not other people. You can be whatever you’d like to be. You just have to choose it.

Moments when the original 'poet' in each of us created the outside world for us, by finding the familiar in the unfamiliar, are perhaps forgotten by most people; or else they are guarded in some secret place of memory because they were too much like visitations by the gods to be mixed with everyday thinking.

I think I am quite wicked with roses. I like to gather them, and smell them till they have no scent left.

Yeah, a memory's never finished, if you really think about it.

I could still smell her on my fur. It clung to me, a memory of another world. I was drunk with it, with the scent of her. I'd got too close. The smell of summer on her skin, the half-recalled cadence of her voice, the sensation of her fingers on my fur. Every bit of me sang with the memory of her closeness. Too close. I couldn't stay away.