Fair is foul, and foul is fair, hover through fog and filthy air.
— William Shakespeare
Delicious Macbeth Play quotations
Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow.
It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury; signifying nothing.
All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand! Oh, oh, oh!
Look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent under it.
A little water clears us of this deed.
Out, damned spot! Out, I say!
The instruments of darkness tell us truths.
My hands are of your color, but I shame to wear a heart so white.
Confusion now hath made his masterpiece.
When our actions do not, our fears make us traitors.
Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness.
Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand?
Many actors want to play Hamlet and Macbeth.
Ever since I became an actor, from the very beginning I just wanted to play a Shetland pony. I cannot explain why
Better be with the dead, Whom we to gain our peace, have sent to peace, Than on the torture of the mind to lie In restless ecstasy.
Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself And falls on the other side
Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell.
By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes.
If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me.
Out, damned spot! out, I say! One: two: why, then 'tis time to do't. Hell is murky!
Stars hide your fires; let not light see my black and deep desires: The eyes wink at the hand; yet let that be which the eye fears, when it is done, to see
Receive what cheer you may. The night is long that never finds the day.
I once said to someone when I was playing Lady Macbeth and they said: "That's tricky, emotionally, what do you do about murdering your husband's cousin?" And there are, of course, things that aren't in your personal repertoire that you have to somehow understand by reading or watching other things and listening to other people talk about them.
Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn the power of man.
Your face is a book, where men may read strange matters.
But yet I'll make assurance double sure, and take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live.
Tis the eye of childhood that fears a painted devil.
Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, Raze out the written troubles of the brain
O horror! Horror! Horror! Tongue nor heart Cannot conceive nor name thee!
[May 1958, on playing Macbeth at age 30 and age 48] When you're a young man, Macbeth is a character part. When you're older, it's a straight part.
That but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all here, But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, We'ld jump the life to come.
Ring the alarum-bell! Blow, wind! come, wrack! At least we'll die with harness on our back.
And nothing is, but what is not.
Tis safter to be that which we destroy Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy.
Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell.
Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace, Yet Grace must still look so.