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
:))
ReplyDeleteEveryone should have one of these each day!
ReplyDeleteHa! I often feel like that at work. :)
ReplyDeleteha!
ReplyDeletehehehehehe
ReplyDeleteHa ha, think I have been there.
ReplyDelete*slaps forehead*
ReplyDelete(I should specify that I meant my own forehead!)
ReplyDeleteLoved it!
ReplyDeleteI couldn't see this when I came here yesterday. My Dad would have loved it. Sparks comment cracked me up. ;D
ReplyDeleteJoin the club. In today's world we're all a bit frayed at the edges, but it was still a funny pic.
ReplyDeleteThat's a good one :-)
ReplyDelete