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.

This was posted 2 years ago. It has 6 notes.
  1. emopilgrim reblogged this from samfrydmon
  2. swoland reblogged this from samfrydmon and added:
    I think Shakespeare just took a piece of my heart… I read Macbeth at least three times this year.
  3. beccabatchofpancakes reblogged this from samfrydmon
  4. samfrydmon posted this