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,
-- Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5
Thanks for the links to Nona's giveaway. I will definitely enter.
Thanks, Annie! Love Nona's blog and the artwork on the other one is excellent.ReplyDelete
PS - I'm glad you liked my Eva. It's my first real painting, so I'm not sure what will happen to her...but you've given me a HUGE compliment by simply asking that question on my blog today. Thank you.
Sorry to hear about your mailbox. Did it happen on a Friday nite? Seems like all of the nonsense out here in these parts happens on Friday nights.ReplyDelete
I'm glad you found a vacuum that really sucks. Ours doesn't.