Tomorrow's Eve by Villiers de l'Isle Adam

If you but knew how they struggle to appear, how hard they try to reach their worldly mate and augment his faith, even through the Terrors of the Night! How they strive to dress themselves in all the available opacities which may reinforce tomorrow the memory of their passage! Are they deprived of eyes to see? No matter; they look at you through the stone of a ring, the decoration of a lamp, a gleam of starlight in the mirror. They have no lungs with which to speak? But they make themselves heard in the voice of the plaintive wind, in the creaking of an old chair, in the rattle of a decorative spear falling in a hallway (for there is a Foreknowledge which permits all these things). Do they have no material forms or visible features? They invent one for themselves in the fold of a drape; they materialize in the leafy patterns of a bush, or in the outlines of an everyday object, using the shadows of everything that surrounds you, I say, to become incarnate and to intensify to the utmost the impression they want to leave of their visit.

And the first natural instinct of the Soul is to recognize them, in and through that same holy terror which bears witness to them.