“The question is: is it better to be alive or dead? Is it nobler to put up with all the nasty things that luck throws your way, or to fight against all those troubles by simply putting an end to them once and for all? Dying, sleeping—that’s all dying is—a sleep that ends all the heartache and shocks that life on earth gives us—that’s an achievement to wish for. To die, to sleep—to sleep, maybe to dream. Ah, but there’s the catch: in death’s sleep who knows what kind of dreams might come, after we’ve put the noise and commotion of life behind us. That’s certainly something to worry about. That’s the consideration that makes us stretch out our sufferings so long.”

“I don’t sleep on the left side of the bed, or the right side, because there is a third option: to not sleep. After all, sleep is like death. Ah, but that’s life, no?”

“I just need to rest, that’s all, to rest and sleep some, and maybe die a little.”

“Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; To sleep, perchance to dream—For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause, there's the respect, That makes calamity of so long life”

“To die, - To sleep, - To sleep!Perchance to dream: - ay, there's the rub;For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,Must give us pause: there's the respectThat makes calamity of so long life;”

“To take estrogen or not to take estrogen:That is the question.Whether 'tis nobler to abstain and sufferThe sweat and puddles of outrageous flashesOr to take arms against a sea of mood swings,And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;No more; at first the studies say 'twill endThe heart attacks and thousand bouts of bloatThat flesh is heir to, 'tis a true confusion - For then they say 'twill cause us all to diePerchance from breast cancer; ay, there's the rub;For who can dream or even sleep while worrying aboutWhat doctors might be saying come next week?”