hamlet: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 end them. to die- to sleep-

　　no more; and by a sleep to say we end

　　the heartache, and the thousand natural shocks

　　that flesh 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 in that 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 whips and scorns of time,

　　th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,

　　the pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay,

　　the insolence of office, and the spurns

　　that patient merit of th' unworthy takes,

　　when he himself might his quietus make

　　with a bare bodkin? who would these 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 makes us rather bear those ills we have

　　than fly to others that we know not of?

　　thus conscience does make cowards of us all,

　　and thus the native hue of resolution

　　is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,

　　and enterprises of great pith and moment

　　with this regard their currents turn awry

　　and lose the name of action.