all spirits

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,

Ye 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.



~ William Shakespeare
from The Tempest, Prospero's soliloquy
photo by Kristjan Rems