All the World's a Stage

All the World's a Stage
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. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
William Shakespeare
All journeys have a start, and an end, whether it’s your own journey or not, your life will always follow the seven cycles. ‘All the World’s a Stage,’ an allegory poem written by William Shakespeare, symbolises our journeys, from birth to death, the flow that everyone’s life is the same and how each paradigm we follow is the same. Though William Shakespeare poem is of a historical age, it still gives an atmosphere where the audience will feel as they are one with the play as it interacts with the audience and their overall journey from life to death.
Journeys are our quest from life to death, the moment we were born and the moment we die, we will always experience different things. William