"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."
William Shakespeare (Macbeth, Act V, Scene 5)
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."
William Shakespeare (Macbeth, Act V, Scene 5)
The interpretation of life is one such issue that encompasses in its fold such contrasting opinions that are just like two opposite poles. Life has been called by various names and each one stands out just as the other. Life may be the complaint of a man who has witnessed the ills of society:
"Where palsy shakes a few. sad, last grey hairs,
Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
And leaden-eyed despairs,
Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow."
(John Keats in his 'Ode to a Nightingale')
Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
And leaden-eyed despairs,
Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow."
(John Keats in his 'Ode to a Nightingale')
Literature interprets life for us. Literature is just like the ever-widening horizon of life. The more we seek knowledge and wisdom in books, the more we find it there. And it is this inexhaustible quality of literature attracts us towards it. The ruby, sapphire, diamond and all other jewels of literature inspire us no end. Shakespeare is as valid today as he was in the Elizabethan age.
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