Come what come may, Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.
Tag: Macbeth
Total 9 Posts
False face must hide what the false heart doth know.
Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.
By the pricking of my thumbs,Something wicked this way comes. Open, locks, Whoever knocks!
Out, damned spot! out, I say!
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
The attempt and not the deed Confounds us.
Life is but a walking Shadow, a poor Player That struts and frets his Hour upon the Stage, And then is heard no more; It is a tall Tale, Told by an Idiot, full of Sound and Fury, Signifying nothing.”