Notable Quotes About Macbeth’s 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.

Brave Macbeth, well he deserves that name.

What’s done is done.

I am in blood stepped in so far that, should I wade no more, returning were as tedious as go o’er.

I would not have such a heart in my bosom for the dignity of the whole body.

No man born of woman can harm Macbeth.

Double, double toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble.

Confusion now hath made his masterpiece.

For none of woman born shall harm Macbeth.

By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.

Out, damned spot! Out, I say!

Though Birnam Wood be come to Dunsinane and thou opposed, being of no woman born, yet I will try the last.

All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.

Give sorrow words. The grief that does not speak whispers the o’er-fraught heart and bids it break.

Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o’ the milk of human kindness.

Fair is foul, and foul is fair.

There’s daggers in men’s smiles.

Will all great Neptune’s ocean wash this blood clean from my hand?

What, all my pretty chickens and their dam at one fell swoop?

It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it.

By the clock ’tis day, and yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp.

Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.

Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men.

Is this a dagger which I see before me?

Is this a dagger I see before me, the handle towards my hand?

If you can look into the seeds of time, and say which grain will grow and which will not, speak then to me.

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

I have no spur to prick the sides of my intent, but only vaulting ambition.

There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.

How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags! What is’t you do?

If we should fail?

Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?

There’s husbandry in heaven; Their candles are all out.

It will have blood; they say, blood will have blood.

By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.

Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more.

The night is long that never finds the day.

Macbeth shall never vanquished be until Great Birnam Wood to high Dunsinane Hill shall come against him.

Something wicked this way comes.

The devil damn thee black, thou cream-faced loon! Where got’st thou that goose look?

There’s no art to find the mind’s construction in the face.

Till Birnam Wood remove to Dunsinane, I cannot taint with fear.

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

I bear a charmed life.

Thou hast it now: king, Cawdor, Glamis, all, as the weird women promised, and I fear thou play’dst most foully for’t.

Security is mortal’s chiefest enemy.

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

The mind I sway by and the heart I bear shall never sag with doubt nor shake with fear.

A little water clears us of this deed.