To be, or not to be: that is the question: <br />Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer <br />The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, <br />Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, <br />And by opposing end them? <br />To die: to sleep; <br />No more; and, by a sleep to say we end <br />The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks <br />That flash is heir to, tis a consummation <br />Devoutly to be wished. <br />To die, to sleep; <br />To sleep erchance to dream:ay, there's the rub; <br />For in that sleep of death what dreams may come <br />When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, <br />Must give us pause. <br />There's the respect <br />That makes calamity of so long life; <br />For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, <br />The pangs of disprized love, the law's delay, <br />The insolence of office, and the spurns <br />That patient merit of the unworthy takes, <br />When he himself might his quietus make <br />With a bare bodkin? <br />Who would fardels bear, <br />To grunt and sweat under a weary life, <br />But that the dread of something after death, <br />The undiscovered country from whose bourn <br />No traveller returns, puzzles the will, <br />And make us rather bear those ills we have <br />Than fly to others that we know not of? <br />Thus conscience does make cowards of us all; <br />And Is sicklied o'er <br />With the pale cast of thought <br />And enterprises of great pith and moment <br />With this regard their currents turn away, <br />And lose the name of action.<br /><br />William Shakespeare<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-be-or-not-to-be-that-is-the-question/
