Which smoked with bloody execution, like valor's minion carved out his passage till he faced the slave; Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him, till he unseamed him from the nave to the chops, and fixed his head upon battlements.
I'm sorry I can't
Infirm of purpose! Give me the dagger: the sleeping and the dead
what is going on with him
Avaunt! And quit my sight! Let the earth hide thee! Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold; Thou hast no speculation in those eyes which thou dost glare with!”
Be lion-mettled, proud, and take no care, who chafes, who frets, or where conspirators are: Macbeth shall never vanquished be until Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill shall come against him.
The smell of blood still: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. oh! oh! Oh!
Macduff was taken from his mother's womb before her time
Damnanation to the toungue that tells me that! it has daunted my manly courage