Excerpt from The Tempest Act 4, Scene 1

"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-capp'd 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."