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The Eternal Question

To be, or not to be, that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them: to die: to sleep,
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, ’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d.
….Who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The pangs of despised love...and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.

Hamlet. III, 1. Shakespeare

Yes?

No?

Accept the cabeceo?

Turn down the cabeceo?

Why do we do this?

How can we not do this?

Is it better to live with the truth?

Is it better to have faith in a dream?

What does it mean to dance with one person?

What does it mean to dance with many people?

Do we want a life of safety, security, calm, and quiet?

Do we want a life of turbulent passion, fire, and explosions?

Is what we want the important thing?

Is what we need the important thing?

Should we do what is easy?

Should we do what is a struggle?

Is it better to have many years of promises and nonpresence?

Is it better to have one minute of no promises and total presence?

Does the past matter?

Does the future matter?

Is living in the moment the only true way to live?

Is living in the moment an irresponsible cop-out?

With me?

On your own?

Who Wants to Live Forever? Queen

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