Blind Fear, That Seeing Reason Leads, Finds

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, 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.

Miracles Are Ceased; And Therefore We Must Needs Admit The Means, How Things Are Perfected.

A Light Heart Lives Long.

What Should Such Fellows As I Do Crawling Between Earth And Heaven?

When Faced With A Sea Of Troubles, Take Action, And In So Doing End It.