All Quotes

"You lack the season of all natures, sleep."

"My former speeches have but hit your thoughts, Which can interpret farther. Only I say Things have been strangely borne. The gracious Duncan Was pitied of Macbeth; marry, he was dead. And the right valiant Banquo walked too late, Whom you may say, if ’t please you, Fleance killed, For Fleance fled. Men must not walk too late. Who cannot want the thought how monstrous It was for Malcolm and for Donalbain To kill their gracious father? Damnèd fact, How it did grieve Macbeth! Did he not straight In pious rage the two delinquents tear That were the slaves of drink and thralls of sleep? Was not that nobly done? Ay, and wisely, too, For ’twould have angered any heart alive To hear the men deny ’t. So that I say He has borne all things well."

"Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn and cauldron bubble."

"By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes: — Open, locks, Whoever knocks!"

"Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! beware Macduff; Beware the thane of Fife. Dismiss me. Enough."

"Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn The power of man, for none of woman born Shall harm Macbeth."

"Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be, until Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill Shall come against him. Macbeth: That will never be. Who can impress the forest, bid the tree, Unfix his earthbound root?"

"When our actions do not, Our fears do make us traitors."

"Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward To what they were before."

"First Murderer: Where is your husband? Lady Macduff: I hope, in no place so unsanctified, Where such as thou mayst find him. First Murderer: He's a traitor. Son: Thou liest, thou shag-hair'd villain! First Murderer: What, you egg!"

"Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell; Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace, Yet grace must still look so."

"Fare thee well, lord: I would not be the villain that thou think'st For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp, And the rich East to boot."

"Not in the legions Of horrid hell can come a devil more damned In evils to top Macbeth."

"Nay, had I power, I should Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell, Uproar the universal peace, confound All unity on earth."

"Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks that rent the air, Are made, not markt; where violent sorrow seems A modern ecstasy: the dead man's knell Is there scarce askt for who; and good men's lives Expire before the flowers in their caps, Dying or e'er they sicken."

"Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak Whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break."

"All my pretty ones? Did you say all? — O, hell-kite! All? What, all my pretty chickens and their dam At one fell swoop?"

"Malcolm: Dispute it like a man. Macduff: I shall do so; But I must also feel it as a man: I cannot but remember such things were, That were most precious to me."

"In following him, I follow but myself."

"Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul, But I do love thee; and when I love thee not, Chaos is come again."

"Out, damned spot! out, I say!— One; two; why, then 'tis time to do't ;—Hell is murky!—Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account?—Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?"

"The thane of Fife had a wife: where is she now?— What, will these hands ne'er be clean?"

"Here's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh, oh, oh!"

"What's done cannot be undone."

"Those he commands move only in command, Nothing in love: now does he feel his title Hang loose about him, like a giant's robe Upon a dwarfish thief."

"The devil damn thee black, thou cream-faced loon! Where gott'st thou that goose look?"

"Go prick thy face, and over-red thy fear, Thou lily-liver'd boy."

"I have liv'd long enough: my way of life Is fallen into the sear, the yellow leaf; And that which should accompany old age, As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have; but, in their stead, Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath, Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not."

"Macbeth: Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas'd; Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow; Raze out the written troubles of the brain; And with some sweet oblivious antidote, Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff Which weighs upon the heart? Doctor: Therein the patient Must minister to himself. Macbeth: Throw physic to the dogs; — I'll none of it."

"I would applaud thee to the very echo, That should applaud again."

"Hang out our banners on the outward walls; The cry is still, They come. Our castle's strength Will laugh a siege to scorn: here let them lie Till famine and the ague eat them up. Were they not forc'd with those that should be ours, We might have met them dareful, beard to beard, And beat them backward home."

"I have almost forgot the taste of fears; The time has been, my senses would have cool'd To hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir As life were in't: I have supp'd full with horrors; Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts Cannot once start me."

"She should have died hereafter; There would have been time for such a word. Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing."

"Messenger: As I did stand my watch upon the hill, I looked toward Birnam, and anon methought The Wood began to move. Macbeth: Liar and slave!"

"I pull in resolution, and begin To doubt the equivocation of the fiend That lies like truth: 'Fear not, till Birnam wood Do come to Dunsinane:' and now a wood Comes toward Dunsinane. Arm, arm, and out! If this which he avouches does appear, There is nor flying hence nor tarrying here. I gin to be aweary of the sun, And wish the estate o' the world were now undone. Ring the alarum-bell! Blow, wind! come, wrack! At least we'll die with harness on our back."

"Make all our trumpets speak; give them all breath, Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death."

"They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly, But, bear-like, I must fight the course"

"Why should I play the Roman fool, and die On mine own sword?"

"Macduff: Turn, hell-hound, turn! Macbeth:Of all men else I have avoided thee. But get thee back. My soul is too much charged With blood of thine already. Macduff: I have no words. My voice is in my sword. Thou bloodier villain Than terms can give thee out!"

"Macbeth: I bear a charmed life, which must not yield To one of woman born. Macduff: Despair thy charm; And let the angel whom thou still hast served Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb Untimely ripp'd. Macbeth: Accursed be the tongue that tells me so, For it hath cow'd my better part of man! And be these juggling fiends no more believ'd, That palter with us in a double sense; That keep the word of promise to our ear, And break it to our hope."

"Antonio: Where is the master, boatswain? Boatswain: Do you not hear him? You mar our labour: keep your cabins; you do assist the storm. Gonzalo: Nay, good, be patient. Boatswain: When the sea is. Hence! What cares these roarers for the name of king? To cabin! silence! Trouble us not. Gonzalo: Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard. Boatswain: None that I more love than myself. You are counsellor; — if you can command these elements to silence, and work the peace of the present, we will not hand a rope more. Use your authority; if you cannot, give thanks you have liv'd so long, and make yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap."

"I have great comfort from this fellow. Methinks he hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is perfect gallows."

"A pox o' your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, incharitable dog!"

"All lost! to prayers, to prayers! All lost!"

"Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground — long heath, brown furze, anything. The wills above be done, but I would fain die a dry death."

"Then put up your pipes in your bag, for I'll away. Go, vanish into air, away!"

"Miranda: If by your art, my dearest father, you have Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them. The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch, But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek, Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffered With those that I saw suffer! A brave vessel, Who had, no doubt, some noble creatures in her, Dash'd all to pieces! O, the cry did knock Against my very heart! Poor souls, they perish'd! Had I been any god of power, I would Have sunk the sea within the earth, or e'er It should the good ship so have swallow'd, and The fraughting souls within her. Prospero: Be collected; No more amazement; tell your piteous heart There's no harm done. Miranda: O, woe the day! Prospero: No harm. I have done nothing but in care of thee — Of thee, my dear one! thee, my daughter."

"Miranda: You have often Begun to tell me what I am; but stopp'd, And left me to a bootless inquisition, Concluding, Stay; not yet. Prospero: The hour's now come; The very minute bids thee ope thine ear."

"What see'st thou else In the dark backward and abysm of time?"

"The government I cast upon my brother, And to my state grew stranger, being transported And rapt in secret studies."