Out, damned spot! Out, I say!
Look like th’ innocent flower, but be the serpent under’t.
Unsex me here, and fill me from the crown to the toe top-full of direst cruelty.
My hands are of your color, but I shame to wear a heart so white.
Things without all remedy should be without regard: what’s done is done.
Come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here.
Blood will have blood.
Too full o’ the milk of human kindness.
I have given suck, and know how tender ’tis to love the babe that milks me.
Nought’s had, all’s spent, where our desire is got without content.
You must leave all safety behind you.
When you durst do it, then you were a man.
I would, while it was smiling in my face, have pluck’d my nipple from his boneless gums.
The raven himself is hoarse that croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan.
Is this a dagger which I see before me?
Whats done cannot be undone.
We fail! But screw your courage to the sticking-place.
Come to my womans breasts, and take my milk for gall.
I am in blood stepped in so far.
The sleeping and the dead are but as pictures.
Out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety.
I have no spur to prick the sides of my intent, but only vaulting ambition.
What will these hands ne’er be clean?
A little water clears us of this deed.
To be thus is nothing; but to be safely thus.
We have scorched the snake, not killed it.
Come, what come may, time and the hour runs through the roughest day.
If we should fail?
It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
All our service, in every point twice done and then done double.
I am bold to tell you that I am far far from being the villain of this piece.
The moon is down; I have not heard the clock.
What beast was’t, then, that made you break this enterprise to me?
Give me the daggers. The sleeping and the dead are but as pictures.
We should be bold, but still hold our peace.
Too cruel to be nice.
Infirm of purpose! Give me the daggers.
I would challenge you to a battle of wits, but I see you are unarmed.
Never shake thy gory locks at me.
The instruments of darkness tell us truths.
Theres one did laugh in s sleep, and one cried Murder!
Look to the lady!
What can we do, but move to our own tune?
I feel it in the water; I feel it in the earth.
To know my secret’s safe, I must take the law into my own hands.