Our revels now are ended. These our actorsAs I foretold you were all spirits andAre melted into air into thin airAnd like the baseless fabric of this visionThe cloud-cappd towrs the gorgeous palacesThe solemn temples the great glove itselfYea all which it inherit shall dissolveAnd like this insubstantial pageant faded Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuffAs dreams are made on and our little lifeIs rounded with a sleep.
Our love was covered in fur yet I was the only one who wanted to pet it.