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.
Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand?
All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand! Oh, oh, oh!
Look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent under it.
Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him? - Lady Macbeth
Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires.
I am in blood Stepp'd in so far, that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o'er.
Methought I heard a voice cry 'Sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep', the innocent sleep, Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve 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...
So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
Or art thou but / A dagger of the mind, a false creation, / Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
You lack the season of all natures, sleep.
Out, damned spot! out, I say! One: two: why, then 'tis time to do't. Hell is murky!
False face must hide what the false heart doth know.
The instruments of darkness tell us truths.
Fair is foul, and foul is fair, hover through fog and filthy air.
I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more, is none
My hands are of your color, but I shame to wear a heart so white.
It will have blood, they say; blood will have blood.
or simply:
