For some must watch, while some must sleep;So runs the world away.

Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye,And where care lodges, sleep will never lie.

I never watch the re-runs,

Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep

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 wish’d. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub.

Sleep she as sound as careless infancy