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 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 this sleep of death what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil
Must give us pause.