Full of sound and fury
From day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time
Life's but a walking shadow
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death
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
Out, out, brief candle
Signifying nothing