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Published: 2012-02-21 14:07:30 +0000 UTC; Views: 1706; Favourites: 17; Downloads: 5
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To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,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.
-Shakespeare (Macbeth)

























