"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 taleTold by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing."
Shakespeare, writer--From
Macbeth (V, v, 19)
I thought this was fun, so I borrowed it from
Sporksforall.
2 comments:
Glad you liked it. I kept reloading over and over until I found one I liked. I was fun to revisit some of the best lines with "sporks" stuck in them. :)
Hi Sporks, This quote came up first time otherwise I probably would have moved on. It creates quite the image.
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