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
Thank you. Heading over now.
ReplyDeleteI saw you there thanks for looking
Delete:)
ReplyDeleteI know you have been there before. Thanks.
DeleteOn my way.
ReplyDeleteSo you there thanks for your comment :)
ReplyDeleteEven more reasons to be glad we connected in this crazy world.
ReplyDeleteI am happy to be back with my blog friends. Thanks for looking at my other blog.
DeleteTrying hard to catch up on blog reading. You do some very, very nice work over there!
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