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
I took this test a few days ago when I saw it on another blog! My score?
ReplyDeleteIt was 8. That's eight.
I have to say, I was pretty proud too!
It must be because I confessed to putting my cold feet on my husband at night! Oh, and because I'm not a doormat! :-)
oooohhhh - i'm a -4, negative four.
ReplyDelete