Macbeth

Cards (39)

  • his brandished steel which smoked with bloody execution
  • stars hide your fires let not light see my dark and deep desires
  • i have no spur to prick the sides of my intent, only vaulting ambition which overleaps itself and falls onto one another
  • my hands are of your colour but i shame to wear a heart so white
  • i am in blood so far that should i wade no further, returning were as tedious as going over
  • she should have died hereafer
  • and live a coward in thine own self esteem
  • come to my women's breast, and take my milk for gall
  • you murdering ministers
  • "Out damned spot!"
  • come you spirits which tend on mortal thoughts- unsex me here and fill me top-toe full of direst cruelty
  • give me the daggers
  • is this a dagger i see before me
  • brave Macbeth, well he deserves that name
  • unseamed him from the nave to the chaps
  • fair is foul and foul is fair
  • look like the innocent flower but be the serpent under it
  • the instruments of darkness tell us truth
  • i fear you played most foully for it
  • when you durst do it then you were a man; and, from that honour not departed from it
  • we will proceed no further in this business
  • partner of greatness
  • What! Can the devil speak true?
  • I have almost forgot the taste of fears
  • Will all great Neptune’s ocean wash this blood clean from my hand?
  •  a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing
  • Yet do I fear thy nature; it is too full o’ the milk of human kindness
  • All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand
  • Stop up the’ access and passage to remorse
  • Come, thick night, and pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell
  • I would, while it was smiling in my face, have plucked my nipple from his boneless gums and dashed the brains out, had I so sworn as you have done to this
  • Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him
  • What’s done cannot be undone
  • I will plant thee and labour thee full of growing
  • the dead butcher and his fiend-like queen
  • a little water clears us of this deed
  • bleed bleed poor country
  • our country sinks beneath the yoke, it weeps it bleeds and each day a new gash is added to her wounds
  • What are these, So wither’d and so wild in their attire, That look not like the inhabitants o’ the earth, And yet are on ‘t?