mehrdad . : Macbeth:
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.
William Shakespeare