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
My husband and I love Charleston. Have you ever been during the Christmas holidays? It's so magical with all the houses decorated with lights and greenery; my husband and I walked for hours taking it in. (Sorry about the deleted comment . . . that was compliments of my toddler and his lightning-fast fingers!) Thanks for visiting my blog. God bless.
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You did well to cross that bridge with a phobia like yours...Congradulations....
ReplyDeleteOoooh, fancy-schmancy!!
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ReplyDeleteMy husband and I love Charleston. Have you ever been during the Christmas holidays? It's so magical with all the houses decorated with lights and greenery; my husband and I walked for hours taking it in. (Sorry about the deleted comment . . . that was compliments of my toddler and his lightning-fast fingers!) Thanks for visiting my blog. God bless.
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