June 24, 2012
"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 , Macbeth (via foxgloves)

1:23am  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Zs6zexN-jq_T
(Notes: 27)
  
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