Viva_Palmeiras
20-05-2016, 09:00 PM
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.
... But if the Hibees win it'll mean everything to generations alive and deid...
— Macbeth (Act 5, Scene 5, lines 17-28) [what Wullie meant to write]
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.
... But if the Hibees win it'll mean everything to generations alive and deid...
— Macbeth (Act 5, Scene 5, lines 17-28) [what Wullie meant to write]