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
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Beyond beautiful. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteSo sweet.
ReplyDeleteIf humans were more like birdies...Linda in Kansas
ReplyDeleteAww love this one.
ReplyDeleteAwww, so precious. Nothing like a mom that takes care of her babies.
ReplyDeleteThank you for joining the Wordless Wednesday Blog Hop.
Have a fabulous Wordless Wednesday. ♥
Love!
ReplyDeleteYou are right, you don't need words for that.
ReplyDeleteSweet picture.
ReplyDeleteI love it!!
ReplyDelete