Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow

by Gabrielle Zevin

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,

I honestly thought that this was a lyric that Lin Manuel Miranda made up.

“What is a game?” Marx said. “It’s tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow. It’s the possibility of infinite rebirth, infinite redemption. The idea that if you keep playing, you could win. No loss is permanent, because nothing is permanent, ever.”