To study, or not to study: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The tests and quizzes of outrageous teachers,
Or to slack off against a sea of homework,
And by quitting end it? To work: to torture;
No more! and by torture is meant continue
Suppressing that long-awaited, needed rest,
That is deserved, dreamed of, and is hoped for;
A commonly shared wish. To quit: to sleep;
To sleep: perchance, to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that dream we hold, what hope springs forth
When we have finished that blasted assignment,
That causes us to pause: and accord respect
To those who persevered to a Ph. D.;
For who could stand the stress of sleepless nights,
The borderline grades, the cheater's successes,
The genius who receives As without the work,
The rejected essays, the failed exams,
That were the product of many hours of work;
Who could stand through it all when they could drop out
And procure a job? Who would sweat school,
Work hours towards what can't be guaranteed,
But the fear of the dark life of the dropout,
That mystery end we know little about,
From whence none return, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others we know not of?
Thus conscience doth make students of us all;
And thus the native hue of slothfulness,
Is clouded over with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of darkness and ruin
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And we gain the name of action. -- Soft you now!
Young student, remember: in the time I penned this,
I could have completely finished studying.