The only cure for vanity is laughter, and the only fault that is laughable is vanity.
In its entirety, probably, it follows us at every instant; all that we have felt, thought and willed from our earliest infancy is there, leaning over the present which is about to join it, pressing against the portals of consciousness that would fain leave it outside.
I see plainly how external images influence the image that I call my body: they transmit movement to it.