These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits and Are melted into air, into thin air. And like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself— Yea, all which it inherit—shall dissolve, And like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep.
I always felt like fathers day was just a day for people with fathers in their lives.
Things I Learned from my First Half Marathon
Came into my first coupe glass today. Didn't so much inherit it as family circumstances made it available. I decided to celebrate with The Last Word, both boozy and sophisticated.
We cancelled cable three days ago.
Sometimes there's nothing you can do.