Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die, Passing through nature to eternity.
To die, to sleep - To sleep, perchance to dream - ay, there's the rub, For in this sleep of death what dreams may come.
Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once.
O God, O God, how weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable seem to me all the uses of this world!
But that the dread of something after death, The undiscover'd 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?
What should such fellows as I do crawling between earth and heaven?
I do not set my life at a pin's fee, And for my soul, what can it do to that, Being a thing immortal as itself?
Words without thoughts never to heaven go.
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.
For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak With most miraculous organ.
Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.
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.
From this time forth My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!
A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a king, and eat of the fish that hath fed of that worm
My words fly up, my thoughts remain below
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; To sleep, perchance to dream—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
There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so.
There is special providence in the fall of a sparrow.
The time is out of joint : O cursed spite, that ever I was born to set it right!
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come.
Not a whit, we defy augury: there's a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come: the readiness is all.
This above all; to thine own self be true.
Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven; Whilst, like a puff'd and reckless libertine, Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads And recks not his own read.
So full of artless jealousy is guilt, It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.
'Tis better to bear the ills we have than fly to others that we know not of.
Follow AzQuotes on Facebook, Twitter and Google+. Every day we present the best quotes! Improve yourself, find your inspiration, share with friends
or simply: