Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, 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


Sunday

Shakespeare Theatre



https://www.playshakespeare.com/
(for full text and other goodies)



(sorry about all the clickies they put in, however its a fairly entertaining overview)

Fun Facts, the Tombstone of Shakespeare

Good frend for Iesvs sake forbeare,
To digg the dvst encloased heare.
Bleste be ye man yt spares thes stones,
And cvrst be he yt moves my bones
Posted by at No comments:
Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)