All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages.
Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
Labels: All the world's a stage, As You Like It, Last Scene of All, Seven ages of Gramps, Shakespeare, William E. Thomas
