Sunday, March 29, 2009
+ bard, sound and fury
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. Shakespeare --- Dear People, life is a breath, not a song, but a verse or refrain or bridge, a one syllable word, a walk-on part, a smile or tear. Today we set our clocks an hour ahead... another spring. Another day. Another moment. Grateful! Grateful! Grateful!