Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more; 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.
As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, / I must not look to have; but, in their stead, / Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath, / Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not" (5.3.25-28).
Out, damned spot! Out, I say!
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.
Fair is foul, and foul is fair, hover through fog and filthy air.
Where shall we three meet again in thunder, lightning, or in rain? When the hurlyburly 's done, when the battle 's lost and won
Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand?
Double, double, toil and trouble; Fire burn, and cauldron bubble!
I am in blood Stepp'd in so far, that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o'er.
If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me.
I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more, is none
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
The instruments of darkness tell us truths.
Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow.
Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness.
Out, damned spot! out, I say! One: two: why, then 'tis time to do't. Hell is murky!
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury; signifying nothing.
All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand! Oh, oh, oh!
There's no art to find the mind's construction in the face.
Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him? - Lady Macbeth
A little water clears us of this deed.
By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes.
False face must hide what the false heart doth know.
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