Note 126 — ESTETICA E ARTE DI GIACOMO LEOPARDI
Reading edition
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more: it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing. (Macbeth, a. V, sc. 5).
We are such stuff As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep. (The Tempest, a. IV, sc. 1).