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 heart-ache 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 a life; for who would bear the whips and scorns of time, the oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, the pangs of dispriz'd love, the law's delay, the insolence of office, and the spurns that patient merit of the unworthy takes, when he himself might his quietus make with a bare bodkin? Who would 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 consience doth 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.
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 heart-ache 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 a life; for who would bear the whips and scorns of time, the oppressor's
wrong
, the proud
man
's
contumely
, the pangs of
dispriz
'd
love
, the law's delay, the insolence of office, and the spurns that patient merit of the unworthy takes, when he himself might his quietus
make
with a bare bodkin? Who would
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
consience
doth
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.