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
To who I used to be.
ReplyDeleteNo one. There is only one me.
ReplyDeleteHave a fabulous day and week. ♥
Myself in my younger days
ReplyDelete'Normal' people.
ReplyDeleteEveryone!
ReplyDeleteNo one.
ReplyDeleteWe're all unique, best to not compare.
ReplyDeleteMy sister
ReplyDeleteI try not to do that
ReplyDeleteNo one. There's no reason to compare. IMO.
ReplyDelete