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
Heeheehee! We could have used one of those smoke detectors the Christmas something burned while the breaker in the kitchen flipped and they couldn't figure out which of the breaker boxes it was, and the smoke detector set off the doorbell chime (when the doorbell goes off, the chime rings so my almost deaf parents can hear it, and the smoke detector makes it ring, too), the doorbell chime had all 4 dogs barking at the door...
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I need one of those smoke detectors too! Santa?
ReplyDeleteFunny yet all are truths for me.
ReplyDeleteI know a few people who could use that smoke alarm.
ReplyDeleteThose fitted sheets are no joke!
ReplyDeleteHeeheehee! We could have used one of those smoke detectors the Christmas something burned while the breaker in the kitchen flipped and they couldn't figure out which of the breaker boxes it was, and the smoke detector set off the doorbell chime (when the doorbell goes off, the chime rings so my almost deaf parents can hear it, and the smoke detector makes it ring, too), the doorbell chime had all 4 dogs barking at the door...
ReplyDelete