Tomorrow, and 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,
Signifying nothing. Macbeth, Act 5 Scene 5; Lest any "side" be tempted to gloat, the world is where we are because of politics that have tried to put mortal men in the place of God. No longer are our actions driven by what is right, but by what conveys power to one group of self- created elites
