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 fools
The 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 tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Said by Macbeth. Said when Lady Macbeth died. What I take this to mean, is that Macbeth is talking about how death will continue to come. With all this time passing us, death only gets closer, and it will continue to come, even if you believe yourself to be immortal, and shall last all of time. And as it gets closer, life will go out(Out, out, brief candle!). Life is a shadow, that will only last a rather small amount of time. Then he says how not matter what your position in life is, it has no point. Life is stupid, and has no point. He is feeling despair, pointlessness, or maybe even worthlessness.
Macbeth pretty much says that: “Some time soon we all die, and there isn’t a thing we can do about it. And what we did before has no point. Our lives are brief and will disappear without us even noticing. Life is just a shadow on this world, basically, of no material power over anything else. In fact, what we do is just a brief look on reality, a mere imitation and act that you put on. Which will end to never be heard from again. Your life is just a story, to be looked on by others as full of fury, and leading to nothing important.”