Hmmm, let me consider. Do my ears hang low? That is the question. Whether it is nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous ridicule or to take up arms against my mockers and by opposing end them? To die: to sleep; no more; and by sleep to say we end the heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to; 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: I think, not, nor do my ears wobble to and fro.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Reflecting on Great Literature
Hmmm, let me consider. Do my ears hang low? That is the question. Whether it is nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous ridicule or to take up arms against my mockers and by opposing end them? To die: to sleep; no more; and by sleep to say we end the heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to; 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: I think, not, nor do my ears wobble to and fro.
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