I was thinking this the other day. The smell of cut grass is something I love , but why? Presumably, it fills me with memories of childhood and playing oitside in summer, but I can remember being 6 or 7 years old and smelling the cut grass at the time and being just as nostalgic about the smell even though I was too young to remember any previous summers. Then I got to thinking about every object that exists. The myriad qualia we experience are tied to memories good and bad. Those memories themselves simply contain more objects, each with their own unique qualia. Some even remind us of memories we've never had, like an abstract painting. An endless loop of memories and feelings built on more memories and feelings , none of which have any fundamental basis or objective meaning outside of our experience.