Marceau, 24, lies on a hospital bed, his nose and eyes covered with bandages. A plane propeller has torn his face. This gourmet of life thinks he's blind; he wonders, his memories flood in and overwhelm him. Adventurous years discovering his fellow man, searching for beauty. A passionate love of art, painting and music. Tales of travels and encounters that satisfy his insatiable curiosity and thirst for knowledge. A blend of the comical and the tragic. A human comedy, a hymn to life, anguish at the omnipresent presence of death in the hospital. There's nothing like life... Toledo and the Tagus, Granada and the Albaicín, La Saeta, Vermeer, Goya, Rembrandt, Le Greco, Carel Fabritius invade his dreams. Marceau regrets not having indulged, when there was still time, in the masochistic joy of writing. His memories will live on, eternal, in the memory of the stars.