“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.”
SHAKESPEARE, Macbeth
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“Full circle, from the tomb of the womb, to the womb of the tomb, we come: an ambiguous, enigmatical incursion into a world of solid matter that is soon to melt from us, like the substance of a dream.”
Joseph CAMPBELL, The Hero with a Thousand Faces
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“Happy and blessed is the man
who knows all this lore
about all these days,
but who still does his work
with piety every day,
giving no offense to the immortals.
This man judges truly
what every flight of birds
is aiming at:
deliverance from evil.”
HESIOD, The Days
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