Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out brief candle! 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, Act 5, Scene 5
Frankie and Slim
Thursday, May 24, 2007
TRAVIS WRITES...
"Following the conference I flew down to Bechar and went into the Sahara for three days. There I got to ride a camel, climb sand dunes, and even see a rainbow! I stayed in an oasis that divides the two deserts, one of rock and one of sand. The birds sang all day, but the instant the sun set - silence. Then, late at night you could hear the faint call to prayer, before sun awoke birds. I don't know how best to describe it - it was a magical place."
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