# Use the REL UNIT
Test anchor:
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 heartache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to. 'Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die- to sleep.
To be, or not to be- that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer 1750
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 heartache, and the thousand natural shocks 1755
That flesh 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, 1760
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay, 1765
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would these fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life, 1770
But that the dread of something after death-
The undiscover'd country, 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? 1775
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 1780
And lose the name of action.- Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia!- Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins rememb'red
4 visions institution, teacher , student, public - assistance to use
Cras varius. Cras dapibus. Vestibulum rutrum, mi nec elementum vehicula, eros quam gravida nisl, id fringilla neque ante vel mi. Phasellus consectetuer vestibulum elit. Vestibulum rutrum, mi nec elementum vehicula, eros quam gravida nisl, id fringilla neque ante vel mi. Aenean massa. Donec mi odio, faucibus at, scelerisque quis, convallis in, nisi. Phasellus nec sem in justo pellentesque facilisis. Nunc nonummy metus. Nulla porta dolor. Sed magna purus, fermentum eu, tincidunt eu, varius ut, felis. Donec mi odio, faucibus at, scelerisque quis, convallis in, nisi. Fusce vulputate eleifend sapien. Duis vel nibh at velit scelerisque suscipit. Cras non dolor. Curabitur a felis in nunc fringilla tristique. Vestibulum fringilla pede sit amet augue. Ut non enim eleifend felis pretium feugiat. Aenean leo ligula, porttitor eu, consequat vitae, eleifend ac, enim. Sed mollis, eros et ultrices tempus, mauris ipsum aliquam libero, non adipiscing dolor urna a orci. Nunc nonummy metus. Sed libero. Praesent ut ligula non mi varius sagittis. Donec pede justo, fringilla vel, aliquet nec, vulputate eget, arcu. Class aptent taciti sociosqu ad litora torquent per conubia nostra, per inceptos hymenaeos.
To be, or not to be- that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer 1750
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 heartache, and the thousand natural shocks 1755
That flesh 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, 1760
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay, 1765
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would these fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life, 1770
But that the dread of something after death-
The undiscover'd country, 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? 1775
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 1780
And lose the name of action.- Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia!- Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins rememb'red
Integrating the use rights
Nam adipiscing. Nam adipiscing. Praesent turpis. Donec posuere vulputate arcu. Cras dapibus. Suspendisse nisl elit, rhoncus eget, elementum ac, condimentum eget, diam. Maecenas vestibulum mollis diam. Quisque ut nisi. Sed mollis, eros et ultrices tempus, mauris ipsum aliquam libero, non adipiscing dolor urna a orci. Duis leo. Nunc sed turpis. Curabitur a felis in nunc fringilla tristique. Maecenas egestas arcu quis ligula mattis placerat. Cras id dui. Mauris turpis nunc, blandit et, volutpat molestie, porta ut, ligula. Etiam sit amet orci eget eros faucibus tincidunt. Integer tincidunt. Aenean posuere, tortor sed cursus feugiat, nunc augue blandit nunc, eu sollicitudin urna dolor sagittis lacus. Vivamus laoreet. Nam eget dui. Vestibulum ante ipsum primis in faucibus orci luctus et ultrices posuere cubilia Curae; Fusce id purus. Suspendisse pulvinar, augue ac venenatis condimentum, sem libero volutpat nibh, nec pellentesque velit pede quis nunc. Praesent porttitor, nulla vitae posuere iaculis, arcu nisl dignissim dolor, a pretium mi sem ut ipsum. Aenean viverra rhoncus pede. Nulla sit amet est.
To be, or not to be- that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer 1750
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 heartache, and the thousand natural shocks 1755
That flesh 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, 1760
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay, 1765
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would these fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life, 1770
But that the dread of something after death-
The undiscover'd country, 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? 1775
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 1780
And lose the name of action.- Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia!- Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins rememb'red
