'All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances'
Shakespeare

'Starry, starry night:
Portraits hung in empty halls:
Frameless heads on nameless walls
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget;
Like the strangers that you've met:
The ragged men in ragged clothes.
The silver thorn, a bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.'
Don Mclean

Conditioned to live,
We Pass.