This is Hamlet :)

To be, or not to be, that is the question:
Whether ` this nobler in the mind to suffer
The sling and arrows of outrageous furtune
Or to take arms against a sea of trouble
And by opposing end them. To die-To sleep-
No more- and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to ` This a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To sie - To sleep-
Perchance to dream: Ay there is the rab,
For in that sleep of death wath dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil
Must give us pause.There is the respect
That makes calamity of so long life
For whould bear the whips and scorns of time,
The opressor`s wrong, the proud man`s contumenly
The pangs of despised love,the law`s delay,
The insolence of office , and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworty takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Whi would fardels fear,
To grunt and sweat under a wearly life,
But that the tread of something after death,
The undiscoverd country,from whouse bourn
No traveller returns,puzzels the will,
And makes us rather bar those ills we have
Than fly others that we know not of?
Thouse conscience does makes cowards of us all,
And thouse the native hue of reslution
Is sickied o`er with a pale cast of tougt,
And enterprise of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn away
And lose the way of action.