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Shakespeare Quotes from Macbeth
But I remember now I am in this earthly world; where, to do harm, Is often laudable; to do good, sometime, Accounted dangerous folly.— filed under Action
From this moment, The very firstlings of my heart shall be The firstlings of my hand. And even now, To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done.— filed under Action
If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly.— filed under Action
My way of life Is fallen into the sear, the yellow leaf, And that which should accompany old age, As honor, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have; but, in their stead, Curses not loud, but deep, mouth-honor, breath, Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.— filed under Affliction
Ambition's debt is paid. u. Julius Cæsar. Act III. Sc. 1. L. 83. I have no spur To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself, And falls on the other.— filed under Ambition
Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell.— filed under Angels
A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?— filed under Apparitions
Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand?— filed under Apparitions
What are these, So wither'd, and so wild in their attire; That look not like the inhabitants o' th' earth, And yet are on 't?— filed under Apparitions
Now good digestion wait on appetite, And health on both!— filed under Appetite
I would applaud thee to the very echo, That should applaud again.— filed under Argument
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.— filed under Authority
There grows, In my most ill-compos'd affection such A stanchless avarice, that, were I king, I should cut off the nobles for their lands.— filed under Babyhood
This avarice Strikes deeper, grows with more pernicious root.— filed under Babyhood
Ere the bat hath flown His cloister'd flight.— filed under Birds-Blackbird
The Poet's Tale. Birds of Killingworth. St. 19. Light thickens; and the crow Makes wing to the rooky wood.— filed under Birds-Cuckoo
A falcon, tow'ring in her pride of place, Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd.— filed under Birds-Falcon
This guest of summer, The temple-haunting martlet, does approve, By his lov'd mansionry, that the heaven's breath Smells wooingly here; no jutty, frieze, Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird Hath made its pendent bed, and procreant cradle : Where they most breed and haunt, I have observ'd, The air is delicate.— filed under Birds-Lark
It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bell man, Which gives the stern'st good night.— filed under Birds-Owl
For the poor wren, The most diminutive of birds, will fight, Her young ones in her nest, against the owl.— filed under Birthday
To feed were best at home; From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony; Meeting were bare without it.— filed under Ceremony
For he being dead, with him is beauty slain, And, beauty dead, black chaos comes again. Venus and Adonis. L. 1,019. Nay, had I power, I should Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell, Uproar the universal peace, confound All unity on earth.— filed under Chaos
I grant him bloody, Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful, Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin That has a name.— filed under Character
Better be with the dead, Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace, Than on the torture of the mind to lie In restless ecstacy.— filed under Conscience
Unnatural deeds Do breed unnatural troubles: infected minds To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets. S.— filed under Conscience
Take no care Who chafes, who frets; and where conspirers are: Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be.— filed under Conspiracy
My more-having would be as a sauce To make me hunger more.— filed under Content
Shut up In measureless content.— filed under Content
I dare do all that may become a man: Who dares do more, is none.— filed under Courage
We fail! But screw your courage to the sticking-place, And we'll not fail.— filed under Courage
Wouldst thou have that Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, And live a coward in thine own esteem, Letting 'I dare not' wait upon, 'I would'; Like the poor cat i' the adage?— filed under Cowardice-Cowards
There shall be done A deed of dreadful note.— filed under Crime
The time has been That, when the brains were out, the man would die, And there an end; but now they rise again, With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, And push us from our stools.— filed under Crime
Unnatural deeds Do breed unnatural troubles: infected minds To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets.— filed under Crime
What, will the line stretch out to the crack of doom?— filed under Curiosity
We have scotched the snake, not killed it : She'll close and be herself, whilst our poor malice Remains in danger of our former tooth.— filed under Danger
What man dare, I dare: Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger; Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves Shall never tremble.— filed under Daring
After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well; Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison, Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing, Can touch him further.— filed under Death
Nothing in his life Became him like the leaving it.— filed under Death
Safe in a ditch he bides, With twenty trenched gashes on his head; The least a death to nature.— filed under Death
The instruments of darkness tell us truths, Win us with honest trifles, to betray us In deepest consequence.— filed under Deceit
I am in this earthly world; where to do harm, Is often laudable, to do good sometime Accounted dangerous folly.— filed under Deeds
The flighty purpose never is o'ertook, Unless the deed go with it.— filed under Deeds
A deed without a name.— filed under Raupach
For it is a knell That summons thee to heaven or to hell.— filed under Destiny
Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward To what they were before.— filed under Destiny
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.— filed under Disappointment
Blow wind! come, wrack! At least we'll die with the harness on our back.— filed under Easter
You have such a February face, So full of frost, of storm, of cloudiness. Much Ado About Nothing. Act. V. Sc. 4. L. 41. Your face, my thane, is a book where men May read strange matters. To beguile the time, Look like the time.— filed under Face
But yet I'll make assurance double sure, And take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live.— filed under Fate
What should be spoken here, where our fate, Hid within an auger-hole, may rush, and seize us?— filed under Fate
And make my seated heart knock at my bs.— filed under Fear
Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep In the affliction of these terrible dreams That shake us nightly.— filed under Fear
His flight was madness: when our actions do not, Our fears do make us traitors.— filed under Fear
Present fears Are less than horrible imaginings.— filed under Fear
Thou can'st not say I did it; never shake Thy gory locks at me.— filed under Fear
You can behold such sights, And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks, When mine is blanch'd with fear.— filed under Fear
and the Sentimentalists. There is none but he Whose being I do fear; and, under him, My Genius is rebuk'd: as, it is said, Mark Antony's was by Cæsar.— filed under Genius
Foul whisperings are abroad.— filed under Gossip
The grief that does not speak Whispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids it break.— filed under Grief
Be bright and jovial among your guests to night.— filed under Guests
Here's our chief guest. If he had been forgotten, It had been as a gap in our great feast.— filed under Guests
All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.— filed under Hand
Stand not upon the order of your going, But go at once.— filed under Haste
Now, good digestion wait on appetite, And health on both!— filed under Hearing
The very firstlings of my heart shall be The firstlings of my hand.— filed under Heart
There's husbandry in heaven; Their candles are all out.— filed under Hell
Away, and mock the time with fairest show; False face must hide what the false heart doth know.— filed under Hypocrisy
Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear Your favours nor your hate.— filed under Independence
Were such things here as we do speak about? Or have we eaten on the insane root That takes the reason prisoner?— filed under Insanity
Boundless intemperance In nature is a tyranny, it hath been Th' untimely emptying of the happy throne, Attempt the end and never stand to doubt; And fall of many kings.— filed under Intemperance
This even-handed justice Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice To our own lips.— filed under Justice
Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness.— filed under Kindness
If you can look into the seeds of time, And say which grain will grow and which will not; Speak then to me.— filed under Knowledge
The labour we delight in physics pain.— filed under Language
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.— filed under Life
I bear a charmed life.— filed under Life
Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow.— filed under Life
Reason thus with life: If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing That none but fools would keep. S. Measure for Measure. Act III. Sc. 1. L. 6. So weary with disasters tugg'd with fortune, That I would set my life on any chance, To mend, or be rid on't.— filed under Life
That but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all here, But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, We'ld jump the life to come.— filed under Life
When shall we three meet again In thunder, lightning, or in rain?— filed under Meeting
I cannot but remember such things were, That were most precious to me.— filed under Memory
That memory, the warder of the brain, Shall be a fume.— filed under Memory
Be large in mirth; anon we'll drink a measure The table round.— filed under Merriment
There's no art To find the mind's construction in the face.— filed under Mind
Blood hath been shed ere now, i' the olden time, Ere humane statute purg'd the gentle weal; Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd Too terrible for the ear: the time has been, That, when the brains were out, the man would die, And there an end; but now they rise again, With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, And push us from our stools: this is more strange Than such a murder is.— filed under Murder
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. C.— filed under Murder
Come, seeling night, Skarf up the tender eye of pitiful day; And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale!— filed under Night
I must become a borrower of the night For a dark hour or twain.— filed under Night
Light thickens; and the crow Makes wing to the rooky wood: Good things of the day begin to droop and drowse; Whiles night's black agents to their preys do rouse.— filed under Night
Now the hungry lion roars, And the wolf behowls the moon; Whilst the heavy ploughman snores, All with weary task foredone. Midsummer-Night's Dream. Act V. Sc. 1. L. 378. The night is long that never finds the day.— filed under Night
Now spurs the lated traveler apace To gain the timely inn.— filed under Occupations-Hatters
Bring me no more reports.— filed under Occupations-Journalism
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? Therein the patient Must minister to himself. Throw physic to the dogs; I'll none of it. C.— filed under Occupations-Medicine
How does your patient, doctor? Not so sick, my lord, As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies.— filed under Occupations-Medicine
If thou couldst, doctor, cast The water of my land, find her disease, And purge it to a sound and pristine health, I would applaud thee to the very echo, That should applaud again.— filed under Occupations-Medicine
Fie, my Lord, fie! a soldier, and afear'd?— filed under Occupations-Military
God's soldier be he! Had I as many sons as I have hairs, I would not wish them to a fairer death: And so his knell is knoll'd.— filed under Occupations-Military
I have bought Golden opinions from all sorts of people, Which would be worn now in their newest gloss, Not cast aside so soon.— filed under Opinion
If we do meet again, we'll smile indeed; If not, 'tis true this parting was well made. Julius Cæsar. Act V. Sc. 1. L. 121. They say he parted well, and paid his score; And so, God be with him!— filed under Parting
Honesty. 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.— filed under Policy
"Amen" Stuck in my throat.— filed under Prayer
Hope, 'Tis True. We promise according to our hopes, and Hope, Tis True. perform according to our fears. perform according to our fears. 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.— filed under Promises
Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill.— filed under Proverbs
We have scotch'd the snake, not killed it.— filed under Proverbs
'Tis safer to be that which we destroy Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy.— filed under Iii
What's done cannot be undone.— filed under Chilo
I am one, my liege, Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world Have so incens'd that I am reckless what I do to spite the world.— filed under Recklessness
Unnatural deeds Do breed unnatural troubles: infected minds To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets: More needs she the divine than the physician.— filed under Remorse
Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill.— filed under Results
The king-becoming graces, As justice, verity, temperance, stableness, Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness, Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude, I have no relish of them.— filed under Royalty
Come like shadows, so depart!— filed under Shakespeare
Methought I heard a voice cry, "Sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep," the innocent sleep.— filed under Sleep
Sleep shall neither night nor day Hang upon his pent-house lid.— filed under 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.— filed under Sleep
To make society The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself Till supper-time alone.— filed under Society
Each new morn, New widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrowS Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds As if it felt with Scotland and yell'd out Like syllable of dolour.— filed under Sorrow
Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak Whispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids 't break.— filed under Sorrow
Your cause of sorrow Must not be measur'd by his worth, for then It hath no end.— filed under Sorrow
Thy soul's flight, If it find heaven, must find it out to-night.— filed under Sorrow
What's the business, That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley The sleepers of the house? Speak, speak!— filed under Sound
Wind and the Sun. I 'gin to be aweary of the sun, And wish the estate o' the world were now undone.— filed under Summer
My plenteous joys, Wanton in fullness, seek to hide themselves In drops of sorrow. X.— filed under Tears
Come what come may, Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.— filed under Time
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, 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.— filed under To-Morrow
Slips of yew Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse.— filed under Trees And Plants-Yew
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.— filed under Truth
What, can the devil speak true?— filed under Truth
The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day: Now spurs the lated traveller apace, To gain the timely inn.— filed under Tyranny
Bleed, bleed, poor country! Great Tyranny! lay thou thy basis sure, For goodness dares not check thee!— filed under Tyranny
O nation miserable, With an untitled tyrant bloody-scepter'd When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again?— filed under Unity
This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues, Was once thought honest.— filed under Unity
'Tis much he dares; And, to that dauntless temper of his mind, He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour To act in safety.— filed under Valor
His virtues Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against The deep damnation of his taking-off.— filed under Virtue
Blow, wind! come, wrack! At least we'll die with harness on our back.— filed under War
Lay on, Macduff, And damn'd be him that first cries "Hold, enough!"— filed under War
To that dauntless temper of his mind, He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour To act in safety.— filed under Wisdom
Can such things be, And overcome us like a summer's cloud, Without our special wonder?— filed under Wooing
Stones have been known to move and trees to speak.— filed under Wooing
The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, And these are of them.— filed under Work