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 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,
Macbeth Act 5, scene 5, 19–28
My readers will be as distressed as I am, to know that the lady who jumped out of the fifth floor flat to escape the wrath of the wife of her boy friend succumbed to her injuries last night.
Here is an update in our local newspaper.
What a waste of a young life.