I am beginning a new series of quotations, in which I will feature pieces from one particular author for several weeks. I begin with the best and most important, William Shakespeare.
You do look, my son, in a moved sort,
As if you were dismayed: be cheerful, sir.
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 tow’rs, 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 sleep.
The Tempest (4. 1. 146-158)
Shakespeare, William. The Complete Works of Shakespeare Seventh Edition. David
Bevington. Editor. Pearson. Boston. 2014.