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
If it comes, I want to be right underneath it. I don't want to try surviving in a post-apocalyptic world!
ReplyDeleteYes, we don't want to see it
ReplyDeleteBravo. Nice one.
ReplyDeleteHappy Thursday.
much♡love
I like your mushroom! Aloha
ReplyDeleteNONE of us want to see the real thing. Ever.
ReplyDelete