This is a passage from William Shakespeare's "MacBeth" which Phil and I often quote (or parts thereof) when we hear some bumptious twit make some outlandish statement or the world appears to be going really mad. We think it explains everything. What do you think?
"Tomorrow, 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,