To be or not to be it is a qustion To be or not to be is a question

Life's but a walking shadow,a poor player that struts and frets his

hour upon the stage,and then is heard no more; it is tale told by an

idiot,full of sound and fury,signifying nothing. Life is just a walking shadow,

< p>A clumsy pitiful person gesticulating on the stage,

appears on the screen

and then quietly retreats without a sound, this is what a fool says The story, full of sound and fury,

means nothing. "Macbeth" Love is a lover's tear

.<<

Hamlet

>Shakespeare once said:

"When When you say "I love you", you must be very quiet.

Don't let the gods in heaven hear you, because they will be very jealous. "God is fair. ,

Those who control destiny will always stand at both ends of the scale.

The person who is controlled by destiny only

understands the destiny given to him by God!

A proud person will always destroy himself in his pride. Love is a sweet pain, and true love is never a smooth road.

Hamlet: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

< p>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,

< p>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

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 res

olution

Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,

And enterprises of great pith and moment

With this regard their currents turn awry

p>

And lose the name of action. Ha

: {

Talking to myself

} To be or not to be

,

This is a question that must be answered

: Should we silently endure the ruthless blows of a harsh fate

, or should we fight against the nothingness as deep as the ocean? Become an enemy of all suffering

and overcome it. These two choices

,

Which is the higher one? Death is sleep

,

It is nothing more than this

< p>! If one sleep can end the pain of the soul and the suffering of the body

, then

,

This outcome is expected

! Die

,

Sleep

... But there may be dreams in sleep

,

Ah

,

This is an obstacle

: When we get rid of this dying skin

, in death What kind of dreams will come in our long sleep? It makes us hesitate

and makes us willing to bear the long-term disasters

, otherwise who would be willing to tolerate all kinds of torture in the world

< p>, such as the government of a tyrant, the pride of the arrogant, the pain of broken love, the slowness of laws, the insult of corrupt officials, or the humiliation of mediocre people

, if he could simply end it with one sword, there would be nothing left Who would be willing to work as a cow or a horse?

,

Be tired of hard work all his life

, and endure the hardships silently

,

Rather than fly far away

,

Floating in a vague realm

, if he did not hesitate because of fear of what would happen behind him Before this, it was a country no one knew about.

There is no way to return since ancient times.