...
To be or not to be:that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles.
And by opposing and them?To die,-to sleep,-
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flash is heir to,'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die;- to sleep;-
To sleep!perchance to dream!ay,there's the rub;
For inthat sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil.
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whipes and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely.
The pangs of diprized love, the law's delay.
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of unworthy takes
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin?Who fardels bear
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And enterprises of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn away
And loose the name of action.Soft you know?
The fair Opelia? Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd
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