April 19, 2001
-
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.
The words of Macbeth, written by William Shakespeare. Of all his plays and sonnets that I read, studied or saw performed, this passage has stayed with me the longest. Perhaps because even at 15, this was the best description of life as I saw it. Invariably, I always come back to this as my cornerstone definition of life.
Comments (4)
I like it and it makes very good sense to me too.
The perfect illustration to live day by day
How about something a little more cheerful....
When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself, and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featur'd like him, like him with friends possess'd,
Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee,--and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
I used to have that one memorized too. However, it has never fit in my life. Perhaps the first 11 lines. The final couplet, I am still searching for. {v}
Comments are closed.