Shakespeare - To be or not to be

[RedDEE]

I'd like for us to take a moment to reflect on the opening phrase of Act 3, Scene 1 of William Shakespeare's play, The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark - often shortened to just Hamlet. There are many things to be said about suicide. But Shakespeare said it best.

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 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 respect
That 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 dispised Love, the Law's delay,
The insolence of Office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his Quietus make
With a bare Bodkin? Who would Fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country, from whose bourn
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 does 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 pitch 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 remember'd.

 

[Soul]

That "soft you now" bit isn't part of the soliloquy, is it? That's a segue to the little dialog with Ophelia. Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.

 

[pthnrdnojvsc]

I'd like for us to take a moment to reflect on the opening phrase of Act 3, Scene 1 of William Shakespeare's play, The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark - often shortened to just Hamlet. There are many things to be said about suicide. But Shakespeare said it best.

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 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 respect
That 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 dispised Love, the Law's delay,
The insolence of Office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his Quietus make
With a bare Bodkin? Who would Fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country, from whose bourn
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 does 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 pitch 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 remember'd.

"For who would bear the Whips and Scorns of time,"
"To grunt and sweat under a weary life,"


Not me . For me it's not to be.
This is a great speech from Shakespeare. I agree with Shakespeare.

 

[IsThisTheEnd?]

no one ever captured emotion like Shakespeare, Julius Caesar no one has ever been able to depict Jealousy like this, this is real.

 

[XYZ]

A bare bodkin, nice allitteration. I, for one, didn't have much luck with a bare bodkin. Hopefully a bare rope will prove more useful.

 

[Wisdom3_1-9]

Except... Hamlet decides that he can't kill himself. He sides with "to be." Here, we disagree.

 

[XYZ]

I'd like for us to take a moment to reflect on the opening phrase of Act 3, Scene 1 of William Shakespeare's play, The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark - often shortened to just Hamlet. There are many things to be said about suicide. But Shakespeare said it best.

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 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 respect
That 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 dispised Love, the Law's delay,
The insolence of Office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his Quietus make
With a bare Bodkin? Who would Fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country, from whose bourn
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 does 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 pitch 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 remember'd.

And I would like us to take a moment and ponder in silence the depth and veracity of this quote from Twelfth Night:

Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage

Except... Hamlet decides that he can't kill himself. He sides with "to be." Here, we disagree.

Ophelia should be the name of the play. She takes arms against a sea of troubles.

 

[Superdeterminist]

I had never thought much about this famous piece before, but now that I'm so obsessed with wanting to die, I see how beautifully written and importantly reflective it is.