There is left only the conclusion that soul draws her concepts both from herself and from Nous, that she is herself the company of the forms, which receive their constitution from the intelligible patterns but enter spontaneously upon the stage of being. The soul therefore was never a writing-tablet bare of inscriptions; she is a tablet that has always been inscribed and is always writing itself and being written on by Nous. For soul is also Nous, unfolding herself by virtue of the Nous that presides over her, and having become its likeness and external replica. Consequently if Nous is everything after the fashion of intellect, so is soul everything after the fashion of soul; if Nous is exemplar, soul is copy; if Nous is everything in concentration, soul is everything discursively.
p. 14 (marginal 16) from Morrow’s translation of Prologue One
I’m reading the Euclid commentary right now, and this passage — specifically, imagery in the bolded piece — struck me so much that I was compelled to share it here. Enjoy.
KALLISTI 