[MaggieL]

Originally Posted by Flint

...sometimes I stop and think about the transitory nature of it all . . . our thoughts are recorded only briefly before dropping off the end of a server, somewhere out there...I imagine being an author as one of the most excruciating occupations imaginable.

Well, Willy certainly knew:

Originally Posted by W. Shakespeare

Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.