To Hoop-Dee-Do, Or not to do Hoop-Dee-Do. That is the question.
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous familiy members,
Or to take arms against a sea of moans, and groans, and complaints.
And by opposing end them? To yell: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we no end to their groans.
The heart-ache and the thousand natural digs by them
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To getr peace, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of sleeps what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off and the kids stop yelling,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of the rest of their childhood,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of parenthood and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country within HDDR from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of parents from their kids;
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. - Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.
It truly is more noble to attend HDDR.
Thus, the lady of the ADR will be beseeched to grant us admission.