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 | You know, this isn't even the strangest dream I've ever had | |
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| To sleep—perchance to dream. Ay, there’s the rub! For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, | |
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| I once dreamed I could fly | |
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| 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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| But only if there was wind | |
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| 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? | |
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