We are such stuff as dreams are made on; and our little life is rounded with a sleep.
The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.
So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.
We are such stuff as dreams are made on; and our little life is rounded with a sleep.
The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.
So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.