The odor of raisins What would be the use, for instance, in giving the plan of the room that was really my room, in describing the little room at the end of the garret, in saying that from the window, across the indentations of the roofs, one could see the hill. I alone, in my memories of another century, can open the deep cupboard that still retains for me alone that unique odor, the odor of raisins drying on a wicker tray. The odor of raisins! It is an odor that is beyond description, one that it takes a lot of imagination to smell. But I've already said too much. If I said more, the reader, back in his own room, would not open that unique wardrobe, with its unique smell, which is the signature of intimacy. Gaston Bachelard, The Poetics of Space smellmemory
Seven lamps Ruskin's Seven Lamps of Architecture provided seven guides, or 'lamps', for the troubled craftsman, guides for anyone who works directly on material things. These seven are: The lamp of sacrifice: The willingness to do something well for its own sake. The lamp of truth: The truth that 'breaks and rents continually'; Ruskin's embrace of difficulty, resistance, and ambiguity. The lamp of power: Tempered power, guided standards other than blind will. The lamp of beauty: Which for Ruskin is found more in the detail, the ornament—hand-sized beauty—than in the large design. The lamp of life: Life equating with struggle and energy, death with deadly perfection. The lamp of memory: The guidance provided by the time before machinery ruled. The lamp of obedience: Obedience to the example set by a master's practice rather than by his particular works; otherwise put, strive to be like Stradivari but do not seek to copy his particular violins. Richard Sennett, The Craftsman 125 Best Architecture Books