To Be or Not to Be: Such is the Problem

This is just one rewrite of the quite well-known soliloquy entitled 'To be or not to be'. I reworded bunches of words in order to completely eschew one letter (you will figure it out):

     To be, or not to be: such is the problem:
     Whether 'tis nobler (with the mind) to suffer
     Those stones, sticks, swords of ridiculous luck
     Or to protest the world of troubles,
     To end them by opposing? To die, to sleep;
     End life; with sleep to imply we end
     The hurting, with those million common ills
     We must be heir to, 'tis one completion
     Surely to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
     To sleep: could be to muse: yes, there's the rub;
     Oh, in the sleep of ruin the thoughts we find
     When we no longer need life's grievous coil,
     Let us slow down: there's the respect
     Which forces long life to be trying;
     For who would risk the whips, the scorns of time,
     The oppressor's wrong, the proud one's nerve,
     Scorn giv'n to one who loves, control's postponement,
     The insolence of office, with the spurns
     The untiring get from the unworthy yields,
     When he, himself, might his quietus find
     With his stiletto? Who would burdens endure,
     To grunt, to work his servile life,
     Unless the thought of something following the end,
     The undiscover'd country which no one
     Could once return from, puzzles the will,
     Forces us to digest those ills we own,
     Not fly to others we do not know of?
     Thus, conscience does show us to be gutless;
     So thus the imbued hue of resolution
     Is sicklied o'er with the feeble force of thought,
     Thus enterprises of huge pith, huge moment
     With this in mind their currents turn crooked,
     Moreover lose the honor of brevity. -- Soft you now!
     The light Ophèle! Nymph, in thy orisons
     Be every sin remember'd.
                          --Bill Jolt-trident
                            (who is MZRG)