Out, out brief candle. Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player who struts and frets his hour upon the stage and is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
Is this a dagger which I see before me,
the handle toward my hand?
Come let me clutch thee.
I have the not and I see the still.
Be true to yourself
The game is afoot, the pieces have been played,
the next move is coming soon.
Zulu 1.2.0. H.