------ Hamlet's To Be or Not To Be Speech------
To go or not to go, the imminent question, whether 'tis nobler in the mind to fall into family expectations or to take up self-aspiration and by that renounce tradition. To dream, to grow - and by dreaming we say we will follow our own hearts and be alone in the thousand shocks adults are heir to, 'tis the freedom devoutly wished for. To follow, to stay, perchance to force self-unhappiness, ah that is the rub. For in the wind of customs, what dreams may come and swiftly go when we have forsaken out childlike hopes? For, who would bear the whips and scorns of family distrust, th'puzzled looks, th'disappointed faces, the pangs of forgotten honor, the insolence of stagnate manners, the spurs of those who blindly followed, when I myself might happiness make with a followed dream? Who would, their world bear, to grunt and sweat for their toil and approval but that the dread of repetition, the well-established cycle from which no one escapes or is able to create new expectations, dulls the imagination and makes us shake the chains of tyranny against an unmoving entity rather than break them with the power of a mere heart? Thus tradition does make slaves of us all and thus the rack of disposed dreams droops low to o'ershadow life and loose all the pitch and hue out of existence. With this simple consideration do our hopes, dreams and aspirations run awry to save the embarrassment of family misfortune due to self-expression.
That's why I a shepherd and not a sheep.
To go or not to go, the imminent question, whether 'tis nobler in the mind to fall into family expectations or to take up self-aspiration and by that renounce tradition. To dream, to grow - and by dreaming we say we will follow our own hearts and be alone in the thousand shocks adults are heir to, 'tis the freedom devoutly wished for. To follow, to stay, perchance to force self-unhappiness, ah that is the rub. For in the wind of customs, what dreams may come and swiftly go when we have forsaken out childlike hopes? For, who would bear the whips and scorns of family distrust, th'puzzled looks, th'disappointed faces, the pangs of forgotten honor, the insolence of stagnate manners, the spurs of those who blindly followed, when I myself might happiness make with a followed dream? Who would, their world bear, to grunt and sweat for their toil and approval but that the dread of repetition, the well-established cycle from which no one escapes or is able to create new expectations, dulls the imagination and makes us shake the chains of tyranny against an unmoving entity rather than break them with the power of a mere heart? Thus tradition does make slaves of us all and thus the rack of disposed dreams droops low to o'ershadow life and loose all the pitch and hue out of existence. With this simple consideration do our hopes, dreams and aspirations run awry to save the embarrassment of family misfortune due to self-expression.
That's why I a shepherd and not a sheep.