Page 7 - VESTIGE 1994
P. 7
"Tomorrow and to- morrow and tomor- row
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable o f recorded time,
And all our yester- days have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out brief
candle.
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor play- er
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."
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