The golden age is before us, not behind us.
There was a star danced, and under that was I born.
To me, fair friend, you never can be old, For as you were when first your eye I ey'd, Such seems your beauty still.
With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come.
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.
And send him many years of sunshine days!
All the world's a stage, and all the men and women mearly players.
One man in his time plays many parts.
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