《哈姆雷特》Hamlet

What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god ! The beauty of the world, the paragon of animals - and yet to me, what is this quintessence of dust? ——Act 2, Scene 2 人是何等巧妙的一件天工! 理性何等的高贵！智能何等的广大！仪容举止是何等的匀称可爱！行动是多么像天使！悟性是多么像神明！真足世界之美，万物之灵！但是，由我看来，这尘垢的精华又算得什么？
Act 3, Scene 1
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 wished. 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 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 disprized love, the law’s delay,
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 fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered 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?
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 pitch 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 remembered.
死后还是存在，还是不存在——这是问题；究竞要忍受这强暴的命运的矢石，还是要拔剑和这滔天的恨事拼命相斗，才是英雄气概呢？死，——长眠，——如此而已，阖眼一睡，若是就能完结心头的苦痛和肉体承受的万千惊扰，——那真是我们要去虔求的愿望。死；——长眠；——长眠么！也许做梦呢！唉，阻碍就在此了；我们捐弃尘世之后，在死睡之中会作些什么梦，这却不可不假思索，苦痛的生活之所以会有这么长的寿命也就是这样的动机所致，否则在短刀一挥就可以完结性命的时候，谁还甘心忍受这时代的鞭鞑讥嘲，高压者的横暴，骄傲者的菲薄，失恋的悲哀，法律的延宕，官吏的骄纵，以及一切凡夫俗子所能加给善人的欺凌？谁愿意背负着负担，在厌倦的生活之下呻吟喘汗，若不是对于死后生活的恐惧，——死乃是旅客一去不返的未经发现的异乡，——令人心志迷惑，使得我宁可忍受现有的苦痛，而不敢轻易尝试那不可知的苦痛；所以“自觉的意识”使得我们都变成了懦夫，所以敢作敢为的血性被思前想后的顾虑害的变成了灰色，惊天动地的大事业也往往因此而中途旁逸，壮志全消了。
Act 3, Scene 3
My words fly up, my thoughts remain below:
Words without thoughts never to heaven go.
我的话飞上去了，我的心思还在下边；
没有真心的空话永远上不了天。
Act 2, Scene 2
Doubt thou the stars are fire;
Doubt that the sun doth move;
Doubt truth to be a liar;
But never doubt I love.
你可怀疑星是火；
你可怀疑太阳会动；
怀疑真理变成谎；
但永莫怀疑我的情