William Shakespeare

which is better apple or watermelon?

To apple, or to watermelon, that is the question. Whether 'tis nobler in the stomach to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous juiciness, or to take arms against a sea of thirst-quenching thirst, and by opposing end them? To eat, to devour; no more; and by a devour to say we end the stomach-ache, and the thousand natural cravings that flesh is heir to? 'Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished. To eat, to devour; to devour, perchance to taste; ay, there's the rub, for in that taste of devouring what flavors 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 outrageous cravings, the pangs of hunger, the law's delay, the insolence of the produce aisle, and the spurns that patient merit of the unworthy takes, when he himself might his appetite make with a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, to grunt and sweat under a weary life, but that the dread of something after eating, the undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveler 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 apples 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, and lose the name of action. Soft you now, the fair watermelon! Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remembered!