The memory can come unexpectedly,
bringing with it the nostalgia for a world.
A little dessert is enough, like a Madeleine immersed in lime tea
and the most intimate memories, crystallized somewhere
and apparently inaccessible,
reveal themselves in their power.
Time is lost, but maybe not!
The past becomes present.
“Whence could it have come to me, this all-powerful joy? I was conscious that it was connected with the taste of tea and cake, but that it infinitely transcended those savours, could not, indeed, be of the same nature as theirs. Whence did it come? What did it signify? How could I seize upon and define it?” Marcel Proust
“Unlike the earth, the sea is not separated from the sky; it always harmonizes with the colors of the sky and it is deeply stirred by its most delicate nuances. The sea radiates under the sun and seems to die with it every evening. And when the sun has vanished, the sea keeps longing for it, keeps preserving a bit of its luminous reminiscence in the face of the uniformly somber earth.” Marcel Proust
“Yet a single sound, a single scent, already heard or breathed long ago, may once again, both in the present and the past, be real without being present, ideal without being abstract, as soon as the permanent and habitually hidden essence of things is liberated, and our true self, which may sometimes have seemed to be long dead, but never was entirely, is re-awoken and re-animated when it receives the heavenly food that is brought to it.” Marcel Proust
“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeing new sights, but in looking with new eyes.” Marcel Proust
“If dreaming a little bit is dangerous, the remedy is not dreaming less but dreaming more, dreaming all the time.” Marcel Proust