Even while so much slipped away in the pauses re-dipping his quill, Shakespeare found the same doings in every level. I see the gravediggers every day, the parking garage attendants who are so much nicer to know than the royals, eww, hissing and sour, their plots hidey, no more sophisticated, but only worsened closer to fear.  eye of the needle, stealing man from the desire of life to keep the body more comfortable. so it’s a trade-off.