O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams.

Despite this glass of coffee and the loud music pumping through the café, I almost fell asleep just now, while thinking about this line. It’s not that it’s a dull line – it isn’t. It’s one of the most interesting lines in this scene. Maybe that’s the trouble. It’s hard to have just the one perspective on it. I picture Hamlet all squished up tiny in a nutshell, like the meat of a walnut. Then I see him floating in space, stars and planets glowing around him, his head encircled with a shiny crown. Then I see the stars and the planets inside the nutshell with a little tiny Hamlet, only visible with a microscope. Then I see a something large with teeth eating up the night sky, chomping down on infinity, Hamlet covering his eyes in his nutshell.
But there is so much more to it than that. The small, the large, the tiny space, the infinite space and also bad dreams, why the vastness of it all makes my eyes droop and the letters blur on the page.

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