Since we have seen how agile souls are, they can only be composed of fine, smooth and round elements. Do not, however, believe that these wandering images are merely the cast-off shells of beings. Even when sleep has spread through our limbs, the intelligences remain attentive enough to continue conversing with those same phantoms that besiege our waking hours.
Images clothed in a thousand forms, they swim at the crest of the clouds, fluid essences that unceasingly change their aspect, whose outlines yield to a thousand likenesses.
The abundance of wind that the images drive away.
The length of the breath that our eyes graze.
after Lucretius, De rerum natura
