...our revels now are ended. This our actors, as I foretold you, were all spirits, and are melted in to 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 rack behind. We are such stuff as dreams are made on; and our little life ir rounded whith a sleep.
William Shakespeare, The Tempest, IV, sc. I
[sono finiti i nostri giochi....noi siamo della sostanza di cui sono fatti i sogni; e la nostra piccola vita � cinta di sogno] |