Macbeth

"Fair is foul, and foul is fair; Hover through the fog and filthy air."

"The merciless Macdonwald (Worthy to be a rebel, — for, to that, The multiplying villainies of nature Do swarm upon him) from the Western Isles Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied; And Fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling, Showed like a rebel's whore: but all's too weak: For brave Macbeth (well he deserves that name) Disdaining Fortune, with his brandish'd steel, Which smoked with bloody execution, Like valour's minion, Carv'd out his passage."

"A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap, And munched, and munched, and munched: Give me, quoth I: Aroint thee, witch! the rump-fed ronyon cries."

"Sleep shall neither night nor day Hang upon his pent-house lid."

"So foul and fair a day I have not seen."

"First Witch: All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Glamis! Second Witch: All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor! Third Witch: All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king hereafter."

"If you can look into the seeds of time, And say which grain will grow, and which will not, Speak."

"The earth hath bubbles, as water has, And these are of them."

"Or have we eaten on the insane root That takes the reason prisoner?"

"But 'tis strange: And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths, Win us with honest trifles, to betray's In deepest consequence."

"If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me without my stir."

"Come what come may, Time and the hour runs through the roughest day."

"The thane of Cawdor lives. Why do you dress me in borrowed robes?"

"Nothing in his life Became him like the leaving it; he died As one that had been studied in his death, To throw away the dearest thing he ow'd, As 'twere a careless trifle."

"There's no art To find the mind's construction in the face: He was a gentleman on whom I built An absolute trust."

"Stars, hide your fires! Let not light see my black and deep desires."

"Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be What thou art promised. Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness To catch the nearest way: thou wouldst be great; Art not without ambition; but without The illness should attend it."

"The raven himself is hoarse That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan Under my battlements. Come, you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts! unsex me here, And fill me from the crown to the toe, top-full Of direst cruelty; make thick my blood, Stop up the access and passage to remorse, That no compunctious visitings of nature Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers, Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell That my keen knife see not the wound it makes Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark To cry, "Hold, hold!""

"Look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent under it."

"If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly; if the assassination Could trammel up the consequence, and catch, With his surcease success; that but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all here, But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, We'd jump the life to come. But in these cases We still have judgement here; that we but teach Bloody instructions, which being taught, return To plague the inventor: this even-handed justice Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice To our own lips. He's here in double trust: First, as I am his kinsman and his subject, Strong both against the deed: then, as his host, Who should against his murderer shut the door, Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been So clear in his great office, that his virtues Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against The deep damnation of his taking-off: And pity, like a naked new-born babe, Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubin, hors'd Upon the sightless couriers of the air, Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, That tears shall drown the wind.—I have no spur To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself, And falls on the other -"

"I have no spur To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself And falls on the other."

"I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more, is none."

"I have given suck, and know How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me: I would, while it was smiling in my face, Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn As you have done to this."

"Macbeth: If we should fail — Lady Macbeth: We fail! But screw your courage to the sticking-place, And we'll not fail."

"Away, and mock the time with fairest show: False face must hide what the false heart doth know."

"What a haste looks through his eyes!"

"The moon is down; I have not heard the clock."

"There's [husbandry]] in heaven; Their candles are all out."

"Merciful powers! Restrain in me the cursèd thoughts that nature Gives way to in repose."

"Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee; I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw."

"Now o'er the one-half world Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse The curtain'd sleep; witchcraft celebrates Pale Hecate's offerings."

"Thou sure and firm-set earth, Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear The very stones prate of my where-about."

"I go, and it is done; the bell invites me. Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell That summons thee to heaven, or to hell."

"Methought I heard a voice cry, Sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep, — the innocent sleep; Sleep, that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care, The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast."

"Infirm of purpose! Give me the daggers. The sleeping and the dead Are but as pictures. 'Tis the eye of childhood That fears a painted devil."

"Whence is that knocking? How is't with me, when every noise appals me? What hands are here? Ha, they pluck out mine eyes. Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood Clean from my hand? No; this my hand will rather The multitudinous seas incarnadine, Making the green one red."

"Faith, here's an equivocator, that could swear in both the scales against either scale; who committed treason enough for God's sake, yet could not equivocate to heaven"

"Porter: Drink, sir, is a great provoker of three things. Macduff: What three things does drink especially provoke? Porter: Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and urine. Lechery, sir, it provokes, and unprovokes; it provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance: therefore, much drink may be said to be an equivocator with lechery: it makes him, and it mars him; it sets him on, and it takes him off; it persuades him, and disheartens him; makes him stand to, and not stand to; in conclusion, equivocates him in a sleep, and, giving him the lie, leaves him."

"Confusion now hath made his masterpiece! Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence The life o' the building!"

"Ring the alarum-bell. Murder and treason! Banquo and Donalbain! Malcolm! awake! Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit, And look on death itself! up, up, and see The great doom's image!"

"Had I but died an hour before this chance I had liv'd a blessed time; for, from this instant, There's nothing serious in mortality: All is but toys; renown and grace is dead; The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees Is left this vault to brag of."

"Who can be wise, amaz'd, temperate and furious, Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man: The expedition of my violent love Outrun the pauser, reason. Here lay Duncan, His silver skin lac'd with his golden blood, And his gash'd stabs looked like a breach in nature, for Ruin's wasteful entrance. There, the murderers; Steeped in the colors of their trade, their very daggers unmannerly breached with gore. Who could refrain, That had a heart to love, and in that heart, Courage to make's love known?"

"In the great hand of God I stand; and thence Against the undivulg'd pretence I fight Of treasonous malice!"

"To show an unfelt sorrow is an office Which the false man does easy."

"There’s daggers in men’s smiles."

"A falcon, touring in her pride of place, Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd."

"Here comes the good Macduff. — How goes the world, sir, now?"

"God's benison go with you; and with those That would make good of bad, and friends of foes!"

"I must become a borrower of the night For a dark hour or twain."

"First Witch: When shall we three meet again In thunder, lightning, or in rain? Second Witch: When the hurly-burly's done, When the battle's lost and won. Third Witch: That will be ere the set of sun. First Witch: Where's the place? Second Witch: Upon the heath Third Witch:There to meet with Macbeth. First Witch: I come, Graymalkin! Second Witch: Paddock calls. Third Witch: Anon."