Quotes from Macbeth

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

Fair is foul, and foul is fair.

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

Out, damned spot! Out, I say!

Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand?

By the clock ’tis day, And yet dark night strangles the traveling lamp.

What’s done is done.

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

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

O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife!

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

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

Out, out, brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow.

I have no spur To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition.

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

What’s to come is still unsure.

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

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

I have supped full with horrors.

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

Out, out, brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow.

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

Unsex me here, And fill me from the crown to the toe top full Of direst cruelty!

False face must hide what the false heart doth know.

I bear a charmed life.

I have no spur To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition.

What beast was’t, then, That made you break this enterprise to me?

When you durst do it, then you were a man.

So foul and fair a day I have not seen.

Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell.

Your faith and patience, Prince Malcolm.

There’s daggers in men’s smiles.

He’s here in double trust; First, as I am his kinsman and his subject, Strong both against the deed.

Thou canst not say I did it; never shake Thy gory locks at me.

Stand not upon the order of your going, But go at once.

To beguile the time, Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye, Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent under’t.

What’s done cannot be undone.

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

Come, let me clutch thee.

But screw your courage to the sticking-place, And we’ll not fail.

The night is long that never finds the day.

Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have Immortal longings in me.

Where shall we three meet again in thunder, lightning, or in rain?

Thus, with a kiss, I die.

She should have died hereafter; There would have been a time for such a word.

When shall we three meet again in thunder, lightning, or in rain?

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

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

By the last syllable of recorded time, All our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death.

Let every soldier hew him down a bough And bear’t before him; thereby shall we shadow The numbers of our host and make discovery Err in report of us.