“Would you be happy! hearken, then, the way:Heed not to-morrow, heed not yesterday;The magic words of life are here and now -O fools, that after some to-morrow stray!”

“When I consider Life, 'tis all a cheat;Yet, fooled with hope, men favour the deceit;Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay:To-morrow's falser than the former day;Lies worse; and while it says, we shall be blestWith some new joys, cuts off what we possesst.”

“For this day only is ours, we are dead to yesterday, and we are not yet born to the morrow.”

“To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,To the last syllable of recorded time;And all our yesterdays have lighted foolsThe 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 taleTold by an idiot, full of sound and fury,Signifying nothing.”

“Can our morrows be foretold?Your Grace might ask instead should our morrows be foretold? And to that I should answer no. Some doors are best left closed.See that you close mine as you leave.”

“Let the morrow bring on what it would, he thought, for it didn't exist. Only now could lay any claim to forever...”