Diurnal life aspiring to the plasticity of dream butts against obdurate causality and the various treacheries of the promesse de bonheur, anticipating, outrunning, surrounding us. None of these are enough by themselves to shatter the dreaming mind which is always steeped in its esemplastic bliss. The cyclopean eye of the veritable dreamer may be slammed shut by day but its membrane is permeable to the strangest things.