"She should have died hereafter; There would have been a time for such a word. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, [emphasis added] 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, lines 17-28) |
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