Quotes
Quotes - Shakespeare
Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going.
Now o'er the one half-world
Nature seems dead.
Thou sure and firm-set earth,
Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear
Thy very stones prate of my whereabout.
The bell invites me.
Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell
That summons thee to heaven or to hell.
It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman,
Which gives the stern'st good-night.
The attempt and not the deed
Confounds us.
I had most need of blessing, and "Amen"
Stuck in my throat.
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 labour's bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast.
Infirm of purpose!
'T is the eye of childhood
That fears a painted devil.
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.
The labour we delight in physics pain.
Dire combustion and confused events
New hatch'd to the woful time.
Tongue nor heart
Cannot conceive nor name thee!
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!
The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees
Is left this vault to brag of.
Who can be wise, amazed, temperate and furious,
Loyal and neutral, in a moment?
There's daggers in men's smiles.
A falcon, towering in her pride of place,
Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd.
Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up
Thine own life's means!
I must become a borrower of the night
For a dark hour or twain.
Let every man be master of his time
Till seven at night.
Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown,
And put a barren sceptre in my gripe,
Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand,
No son of mine succeeding.
Mur. We are men, my liege.
Mac. Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men.
I am one, my liege,
Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world
Have so incensed that I am reckless what
I do to spite the world.
