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Futility
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Futility of Life
Source unknown
Futility of Life
Source unknown
Tomorrow, and tomorrow and tomorrow Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player 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,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
and then is heard no more.
It is a tale told by an idiot,
