- Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
- As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
- Are melted into air, into thin air:
- And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
- The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces,
- The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
- Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
- And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
- Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
- As dreams are made on; and our little life
- Is rounded with a sleep.
–Prospero, Act IV, scene i
W. Shakespeare
