These violent delights have violent endsAnd in their triumph die, like fire and powder,Which, as they kiss, consume. 这种狂暴的快乐往往预示着狂暴的结局在那欢愉的刹那,就像火和炸药一吻即逝
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 tale told by an idiot,full of sound and fury,signifying nothing. 人生不过是一个行走的影子，一个在舞台上指手划脚的笨拙的怜人，登场片刻，便在无声无息中悄然退去，这是一个愚人所讲的故事，充满了喧哗和骚动，却一无所指。
