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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.
Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5, lines 17-28
Some notes:
Indeed, life is but a foolish tale, an awkward story full of idiocy, a short random skit with no scripts. And yet it is its foolishness that leads life so enjoyable, its awkwardness and idiocy that spice up the walking fresh, its shortness and randomness that make life so much valuable. A candle might be brief, but it at least lights up some darkest corner in the world. It may not signify anything to someone else, but it is the most treasurable, honourable and divine asset to its owner.
I am not a real optimist, but I do believe I can always hope for something better. For the sake of such hopes, I refuse to be pessimistic.
Tags: Macbeth, Shakespeare, soliloquy, to-morrow
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