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Photography: Color, Digital, Photo on Other.
Our revels now are ended. These our athletes,
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 palm trees, the gorgeous people,
The solemn referees, the great boulevard 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.