SHALL I COMPARE THEE TO A SUMMER'S DAY? THOU ART MORE LOVELY AND MORE TEMPERATE: ROUGH WINDS DO SHAKE THE DARLING BUDS OF MAY, AND SUMMER'S LEASE HATH ALL TOO SHORT A DATE: SOMETIME TOO HOT THE EYE OF HEAVEN SHINES, AND OFTEN IN HIS GOLD COMPLEXION DIMMED, AND EVERY FAIR FROM FAIR SOMETIME DECLINES, BY CHANCE, OR NATURE'S CHANGING COURSE UNTRIMMED: BUT THY ETERNAL SUMMER SHALL NOT FADE, NOR LOSE POSSESSION OF THAT FAIR THOU OW'ST, NOR SHALL DEATH BRAG THOU WANDER'ST IN HIS SHADE, WHEN IN ETERNAL LINES TO TIME THOU GROW'ST, SO LONG AS MEN CAN BREATHE, OR EYES CAN SEE, SO LONG LIVES THIS, AND THIS GIVES LIFE TO THEE.
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;
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THOU ART MORE LOVELY AND MORE TEMPERATE:
ROUGH WINDS DO SHAKE THE DARLING BUDS OF MAY,
AND SUMMER'S LEASE HATH ALL TOO SHORT A DATE:
SOMETIME TOO HOT THE EYE OF HEAVEN SHINES,
AND OFTEN IN HIS GOLD COMPLEXION DIMMED,
AND EVERY FAIR FROM FAIR SOMETIME DECLINES,
BY CHANCE, OR NATURE'S CHANGING COURSE UNTRIMMED:
BUT THY ETERNAL SUMMER SHALL NOT FADE,
NOR LOSE POSSESSION OF THAT FAIR THOU OW'ST,
NOR SHALL DEATH BRAG THOU WANDER'ST IN HIS SHADE,
WHEN IN ETERNAL LINES TO TIME THOU GROW'ST,
SO LONG AS MEN CAN BREATHE, OR EYES CAN SEE,
SO LONG LIVES THIS, AND THIS GIVES LIFE TO THEE.
Reply
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;
Reply
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