Life Brief Candle

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 lightened 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
Signifiying nothing.

I guess that I am a small character tiny player yet great actor.
Moron