Tags » Remembrance Of Things Past

Tea and cake # 3

And suddenly the memory revealed itself. The taste was that of the little piece of madeleine which on Sunday mornings at Combray (because on those mornings I did not go out before mass), when I went to say good morning to her in her bedroom , my aunt Léonie used to give me, dipping it first in her own cup of tea or tisane.

642 more words

Candied Ginger?

Proust smelled madeleines

a remembrance of things past

became the present

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