All the world's a stage

All the world 's a stage. And all the menb and women merely players. They have their exisits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts, His act being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and pucking in the nurse's arms. The the winning schoolboy with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail. Unwillingly, to school. And the lower. Sighing like furnace, with a woeful balled Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then, a solider,Full of strange oath's and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honour, sudden, and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even if the cannon's mouth. And the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lined, With the eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instance; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank; and his big, manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound, Last scene of all,
That ends this eventful history, Is second childishness and more oblivision, Sans teeth, sans eyes, san taste, sans everything.  by william shakespere.

When I read it, I think that We have to alive without regret. Because, Human certainly die. So We have to alive with full power. You should do it, we should do it and I should do it !!!
Let's alive !!

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