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 heart-ache, 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 pang 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 fardles bear,
To groan and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
That undiscover'd country, from whose bourne
No 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 resolution
Is sicklied o'er with 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 —— Soft you, now!

The fair Ophelia? Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remembred.

This is a celebrated soliloquy from William Shakesphear's "Hamlet", which is bursting from a man's distraction with desires, and overwhelmed with the magnitude of his own purposes, Hamlet see's no means of regaurd from his acctions that he has made and the one's he is planning on doing , to a hazard, and meditates on his situation in this manner.