Me.

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 trouble

And by opposing end them? To die, to sleep -

No more; and by a sleep to say we end

The heartache and the thousand natural shocks

That flash is heir to 'Tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish'd. 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.