Lady Macbeth of "MACBETH"

[I,5,385]
The raven himself is hoarse 
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan 
Under my battlements. Come, you spirits 
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, 
And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full 
Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood; 
Stop up the access and passage to remorse, 
That no compunctious visitings of nature 
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between 
The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts, 
And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers, 
Wherever in your sightless substances 
You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, 
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, 
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes, 
Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, 
To cry 'Hold, hold!' 


[I,5,415]
O, never 
Shall sun that morrow see! 
Your face, my thane, is as a book where men 
May read strange matters. To beguile the time, 
Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye, 
Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower, 
But be the serpent under't. He that's coming 
Must be provided for: and you shall put 
This night's great business into my dispatch; 
Which shall to all our nights and days to come 
Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.

[I,7,512]
Was the hope drunk 
Wherein you dress'd yourself? hath it slept since? 
And wakes it now, to look so green and pale 
At what it did so freely? From this time 
Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard 
To be the same in thine own act and valour 
As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that 
Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, 
And live a coward in thine own esteem, 
Letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would,' 
Like the poor cat i' the adage?

[I,7,526]
What beast was't, then, 
That made you break this enterprise to me? 
When you durst do it, then you were a man; 
And, to be more than what you were, you would 
Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place 
Did then adhere, and yet you would make both: 
They have made themselves, and that their fitness now 
Does unmake you. I have given suck, and know 
How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me: 
I would, while it was smiling in my face, 
Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, 
And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you 
Have done to this.

[III,2,1174]
Nought's had, all's spent, 
Where our desire is got without content: 
'Tis safer to be that which we destroy 
Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy. 
[Enter MACBETH] 
How now, my lord! why do you keep alone, 
Of sorriest fancies your companions making, 
Using those thoughts which should indeed have died 
With them they think on? Things without all remedy 
Should be without regard: what's done is done.

[V,1,2159]
Out, damned spot! out, I say!—One: two: why, 
then, 'tis time to do't.—Hell is murky!—Fie, my 
lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard? What need we 
fear who knows it, when none can call our power to 
account?—Yet who would have thought the old man 
to have had so much blood in him.

[V,1,2166]
The thane of Fife had a wife: where is she now?— 
What, will these hands ne'er be clean?—No more o' 
that, my lord, no more o' that: you mar all with 
this starting.

[V,1,2173
Here's the smell of the blood still: all the 
perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little 
hand. Oh, oh, oh!

[V,1,2184]
Wash your hands, put on your nightgown; look not so 
pale.—I tell you yet again, Banquo's buried; he 
cannot come out on's grave.

[V,1,2188]
To bed, to bed! there's knocking at the gate: 
come, come, come, come, give me your hand. What's 
done cannot be undone.—To bed, to bed, to bed!

Selected from William Shakespeare's MACBETH
Source from http://www.opensourceshakespeare.org/