A transient, horrible, fantastic dream,
Wherein is nothing yet all things do seem:
From which we're wakened by a friendly nudge
Of our bedfellow Death, and cry: "O fudge!"
2007 Update: Rusted eternity.
"To be or not to be?" asked he,
Answered the Danish ghosts' lobby:
"Living is without holiday,
To the dead being is more of a hobby."