"2B, or not 2B, that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The flings and harrows of outrageous whores' chance,
Or to take arms against a sea of bubbles
And by opposing bend them. To lie—to sleep,
No more; and by a sleep to say we bend
The tart-- ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to: 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To lie, to sleep;
To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there's the rub:
For in that sleep of breath 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."
TL;DR, life's most important question is, "Would you like dinner, a bath, or me?"