Our revels now are ended. These our actors,as I foretold you,
were all spirits, andare melted into air, into thin air:
And like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd 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 stuffAs dreams are made on;
and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.
The Tempest Act 4, scene 1 -William Shakespere
Photographs collected from numerous blogs, tumblrs, and pintrest pages over the past month. Please check out the 'places I visit' page to check them out for yourself
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