Seyton: The Queen, my lord, has killed herself.
Macbeth: She had to die sometime, I suppose. There would have been a time to talk of death. Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, day follows day with slow and tired steps until time ends. And all our days have shown fools the way to death, when all things end in dust. Blow out the candle life's shadow disappears. The shadow of an actor who, for an hour, tries to pretend that what he does is real. And then his voice is heard no more. A man's life is like a story, told badly by a fool, whose shouts and strong words make it seem important. But it means nothing
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