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. The Tempest. Act iv. Sc. 1.
1 Comments:
i love this one chris - and the ones below . is it just me or do you feel there is an alien spacecraft just about to round the corner and then hover above the house ? something very fortean times about them .
once we do up our house i would like to buy some of these from you if they are for sale .
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