Quote
By William Shakespeare
To morrow, and to morrow, and to morrow, Creepes in this petty pace from day to day, To the last Syllable of Recorded time: And all our yesterdayes, haue lighted Fooles The way to dusty death. Out, out, breefe Candle, Life's but a walking Shadow, a poore Player, That struts and frets his houre vpon the Stage, And then is heard no more. It is a Tale Told by an Ideot, full of sound and fury Signifying nothing.
- Source
- Mr. William Shakespeares Comedies, Histories, & Tragedies (the First Folio), 1623 · The Tragedie of Macbeth, p. 150 (printed page number, seen), left column, Scena Quinta; archive.org page n755
- Read at
- Internet Archive (EEBO microfilm scan, STC 22273, of the 1623 First Folio, Mr. William Shakespeares Comedies, Histories, & Tragedies, London: Isaac Iaggard and Ed. Blount; page images carry the label Folger No. 7)
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About this quote
Spoken by Macbeth in The Tragedie of Macbeth (First Folio, 1623), on hearing that his wife is dead; Act 5, Scene 5 in modern editions.