So long as men can breathe or eyes can see
When I was in elementary school we had library day once a week and we were allowed to take out one book of our choice. Thursday was my favorite day of the week. Although I discovered Judy Blume and Thomas Rockwell first, the thick, red leather-bound book I climbed a ladder to withdraw in fourth grade contained the body of work that has kept me enthralled for my life entire. I even took classes in college and grad school even though this king of the written word was not a part of my major course of study. I can still recite monologues I memorized in high school...and in the 4th grade.
My favorite solliloquy has ever spoken to me though its meaning has grown more profound as days turn into years till and eternal night draws near...
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
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.