This is a quote from a poem that is one of my favourites: “Ode on a Grecian urn “ by John Keats. The Ode addresses the stillness of the urn in front of the speaker and questions if its beauty might just be better than or simply the same as the improbable reality that surrounds the speaker. Is beauty a mere double of the truth? Are dreams greater than reality? This takes me back to two instances from the “Sandman” comics written by Neil Gaiman:
When the first performance of William Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream" takes place before a crowd:
and when Dream is imprisoned and confronts Lucifer in Hell
So what do you think?