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
Devoutedly to be wished. To die,—to sleep;—
To sleep! perchance to dream, aye there’s the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,