Men At Some Time Are Masters Of

To Die, To Sleep - To Sleep, Perchance To Dream - Ay, There's The Rub, For In This Sleep Of Death What Dreams May Come.

He Was A Man, Take Him For All In All, I Shall Not Look Upon His Like Again.

Unsubstantial Death Is Amorous.

With This Special Observance, That You O'erstep Not The Modesty Of Nature. For Anything So Overdone Is From The Purpose Of Playing, Whose End, Both At The First And Now, Was And Is, To Hold, As 'twere, The Mirror Up To Nature.

Leave Us To Our Free Election.