Swift as a shadow, short as any dream;

Brief as the lightning in the collied night,

That in a spleen unfolds both heaven and earth,

And ere a man hath power to say, "Behold!"

The jaws of darkness do devour it up:

So quick bright things come to confusion.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 1.

  Ham.  Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring?

  Oph.  'T is brief, my lord.

  Ham.  As woman's love.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Hamlet. Act iii. Sc. 2.

But man, proud man,

Drest in a little brief authority,

Most ignorant of what he's most assured,

His glassy essence, like an angry ape,

Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven

As make the angels weep.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Measure for Measure. Act ii. Sc. 2.

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,

Signifying nothing.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Macbeth. Act v. Sc. 5.

But, soft! methinks I scent the morning air;

Brief let me be. Sleeping within my orchard,

My custom always of the afternoon.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Hamlet. Act i. Sc. 5.

  Ham.  Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring?

  Oph.  'T is brief, my lord.

  Ham.  As woman's love.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Hamlet. Act iii. Sc. 2.