What odd things one remembers out of one's life

But to go back to memories. What odd things, really, when one collects them all together, one does remember out of one's life. One remembers happy occasions, one rememvers—very vividly, I think—fear. Oddly enough, pain and unhappiness are hared to recapture. I do not mean exactly that I do not remember them—I can, but without feeling them. Where they are concerned I am in the first stage. I say, "There was Agatha being terribly unhappy. There was Agatha having a toothache." But I don't feel the unhappiness or feel the toothache. On the other hand, one day the sudden smell of lime trees brings the past back, and suddenly I remember a day spent near the lime trees, the pleasure with which I threw myself down on the ground, the smell of hot grass, and the suddenly lovely feeling of summer; a cedar tree nearby and the river beyond. ... The feeling of being at one with life. It comes back in that moment. Not only a remembered thing of the mind but the feeling itself as well.

Agatha Christie: An Autobiography

I've read this book several times, always with much pleasure at Agatha Christie's writing style and approachability in this story of her life. It takes us from her childhood in Victorian times through her writing a mystery as a way to pass the time through marriages and into relatively modern times. As you can see, she has a way of making her own thoughts and observations very relatable. It is making good bedtime reading.