eighty two

I know, we are merely empty forms of matter, 

but we are indeed sublime

in having invented God and our soul. So sublime, my friend, that 

I want to gaze upon matter, fully conscious that it exists, 

and yet launching itself madly into Dream, 

despite its knowledge that Dream has no existence,

 extolling the Soul and all the divine impressions of that kind

 which have collected within us from the beginning of time

 and proclaiming, in the face of the Void which is truth,

 these glorious lies! *

* Stéphane Mallarmé (18 March 1842 - 9 September 1898)