Message Bookmarked
Bookmark Removed
Forsooth.
Poll Results
| Option | Votes |
| With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear, | 5 |
| For in that sleep of death what dreams may come | 4 |
| To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub; | 3 |
| The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, | 2 |
| The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, | 2 |
| Thus conscience does make cowards of us all; | 2 |
| But that the dread of something after death, | 1 |
| When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, | 1 |
| Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; | 1 |
| The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks | 1 |
| Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, | 0 |
| And lose the name of action. - Soft you now! | 0 |
| The undiscover'd country from whose bourn | 0 |
| No traveller returns, puzzles the will | 0 |
| With this regard their currents turn awry, | 0 |
| And makes us rather bear those ills we have | 0 |
| Than fly to others that we know not of? | 0 |
| And enterprises of great pith and moment | 0 |
| And thus the native hue of resolution | 0 |
| The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons | 0 |
| To be, or not to be: that is the question: | 0 |
| To grunt and sweat under a weary life, | 0 |
| When he himself might his quietus make | 0 |
| Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer | 0 |
| Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, | 0 |
| And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep; | 0 |
| No more; and by a sleep to say we end | 0 |
| That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation | 0 |
| Must give us pause: there's the respect | 0 |
| That makes calamity of so long life; | 0 |
| For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, | 0 |
| The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, | 0 |
| The insolence of office and the spurns | 0 |
| That patient merit of the unworthy takes, | 0 |
| Be all my sins remember'd. | 0 |
― Eazy, Thursday, 6 March 2008 21:57 (seventeen years ago)
You must be logged in to post. Please either login here, or if you are not registered, you may register here.