Lestat (flambeauvivant) wrote,
Lestat
flambeauvivant

  • Mood:

There is a reflection of mortality in every word we exchange.

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.
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