To Be Or Not To Be

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  1. To Be Or Not To Be That Is The Question

For if it is true that a thing is a man and a not-man, evidently also it will be neither a man nor a not-man. For to the two assertions there answer two negations, and if the former is treated as a single proposition compounded out of two, the latter also is a single proposition opposite to the former. Life Expectancy Calculator. The Living to 100 Life Expectancy Calculator uses the most current and carefully researched medical and scientific data in order to estimate how old you will live to be.

To be, or not to be: that is the question:Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to sufferThe 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 endThe heart-ache and the thousand natural shocksThat flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummationDevoutly 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 comeWhen we have shuffled off this mortal coil,Must give us pause: there's the respectThat makes calamity of so long life;For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,The insolence of office and the spurnsThat patient merit of the unworthy takes,When he himself might his quietus makeWith a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,To grunt and sweat under a weary life,But that the dread of something after death,The undiscover'd country from whose bournNo traveller returns, puzzles the willAnd makes us rather bear those ills we haveThan fly to others that we know not of?Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;And thus the native hue of resolutionIs sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,And enterprises of great pith and momentWith this regard their currents turn awry,And lose the name of action.—Soft you now!The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisonsBe all my sins remember'd. From you have I been absent in the spring,When proud-pied April, dressed in all his trim,Hath put a spirit of youth in everything,That heavy Saturn laughed and leaped with him,Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smellOf different flowers in odor and in hue,Could make me any summer's story tell,Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew.Nor did I wonder at the lily's white,Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose;They were but sweet, but figures of delight,Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.Yet seemed it winter still, and, you away,As with your shadow I with these did play.

To Be Or Not To Be

Contents.Text This version preserves most of the text with updated spelling and five common emendations introduced from the Second ('Good') Quarto (italicized).To be, or not to be, that is the question:Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to sufferThe slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,Or to take Arms against a Sea of troubles,And by opposing end them: to die, to sleepNo more; and by a sleep, to say we endThe heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocksThat Flesh is heir to? 'Tis a consummationDevoutly 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,When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,Must give us pause. There's the respectThat makes Calamity of so long life:For who would bear the Whips and Scorns of time,The Oppressor's wrong, the proud man's Contumely,The pangs of disprized Love, the Law’s delay,The insolence of Office, and the spurnsThat patient merit of the unworthy takes,When he himself might his Quietus makeWith a bare Bodkin?

To Be Or Not To Be That Is The Question

Who would Fardels bear, F: these FardelsTo grunt and sweat under a weary life,But that the dread of something after death,The undiscovered country, from whose bournNo traveller returns, puzzles the will,And makes us rather bear those ills we have,Than fly to others that we know not of.Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all,And thus the native hue of ResolutionIs sicklied o'er, with the pale cast of Thought,And enterprises of great pitch and moment, F: pithWith this regard their Currents turn awry, F: awayAnd lose the name of Action. Soft you now,The fair Ophelia? Nymph, in thy OrisonsBe all my sins remember'd. First Quarto (1603) The ' (Q1) is the earliest edition of Hamlet but is considered a (essentially a theatrical knock-off) rather than a first or earlier draft, and although some parts of Q1 reflect the received text of Hamlet well, its version of 'To be' does not. 'Hope' in place of 'dread', for example, considerably changes the meaning. For ease of comparison the spelling here is updated as above.To be, or not to be, Ay there's the point,To Die, to sleep, is that all?