For garments the people wear delicate purple
spiders' webs. They themselves have no bodies;
they are impalpable and fleshless, and present to
the eye nothing but a shape, a contour. But although they are thus disembodied, they yet have
consistency, move, reason, and utter speech. In
fact, it is just as though their naked souls were
walking about, wearing the likeness of their bodies. At any rate, unless you should lay hold of
one of them, you would not detect that what your
eye rested on was incorporeal. They are like
shadows, except that they are upright and not
dark. No one grows old; each remains at the
age he had when he came. Nor is there any
night with them, or very bright day either, for the
light that pervades the land is like that white radiance of dawn before the sun has risen. Moreover, they know only one time of year, for it is
always spring there, and the south wind is the
only one that blows.