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
Hubby. Hands down.
ReplyDeleteHave a fabulous day and week. ♥
My daughter.
ReplyDeleteNature.
ReplyDeleteMy dog Frankie-Doodle.
ReplyDeleteMusic. Loud rock and roll, which I gradually turn to lower volumes as I feel better. Also looking at pictures of the twins helps.
ReplyDeleteTalking to my sister
ReplyDeleteMaybe a good Netflix series
ReplyDeletePraying for others, or doing something for them if I am able.
ReplyDelete