There's no art to find in the mind's construction in the face: he was a gentleman on whom I built an absolute trust with
Thou marshell'st me the way that i was going, and such instrument i was going to use! Mine eyes are made fools o'th;other senses, Or worth all the rest: I see thee still; and on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood"
Let your remembrance apply to Banquo; Present him eminence both with eye and tongue: Unsafe the while, that we must Lave our honors in these flattering streams, and make our faces vizards to our heart, Disguising what they are.
O, I could play the woman with mine eyes, and braggart with my tongue!
Hail, King! for so thou art. Behold where stands Th'usuper's cursed head: the time is free: