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 traveler 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 w

ith 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. < /p>

Survival or destruction? This is a problem.

Which is more noble, to endure the ruthless destruction of that violent fate, or to stand up against the boundless troubles and sweep them away.

Go to death and go to sleep. If sleep can end the trauma of our souls and the hundreds of kinds of pain our bodies have endured, that would be a great good thing that we can only hope for in life. Go to death, go to sleep,

Go to sleep, maybe you will dream!

Oh, this is troublesome. Even if we escape from this world, what dreams will we have in this sleep of death? You really have to think about it, just this kind of worry makes people suffer lifelong torture.

Who is willing to endure the whipping and ridicule, being oppressed, being humiliated and despised, enduring the pain of lovelorn, the court's Procrastination, excessive taxation by the government, and obscurity of labor only brought a lot of humiliation. But he himself could free himself with just a sharp knife.

No one is willing to drag this remaining life with groans and sweats, but they are afraid of death, and no one has ever returned from the land of death, so they are shaken and would rather endure the present. suffering rather than turning to another suffering.

Concern turns us all into cowards, making the decisive nature cast a pale face of thought. We could have done great things, but because of thinking, they came to nothing and were lost. the ability to act.