It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury; signifying nothing.
William ShakespeareRead
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16 quotes
It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury; signifying nothing.
There's no art to find the mind's construction in the face.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's 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 tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing.
I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more, is none
Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself And falls on the other side
Double, double, toil and trouble; Fire burn, and cauldron bubble!
It will have blood, they say; blood will have blood.
So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
Or art thou but / A dagger of the mind, a false creation, / Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
Is this a dagger which I see before me, _x000D_ _x000D_ The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. _x000D_ _x000D_ I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. _x000D_ _x000D_ Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible _x000D_ _x000D_ To feeling as to sight? or art thou but _x000D_ _x000D_ A dagger of the mind, a false creation, _x000D_ _x000D_ Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well. It were done quickly.
My hands are of your color, but I shame to wear a heart so white.
Look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent under it.
Tis safter to be that which we destroy Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy.
Fair is foul, and foul is fair, hover through fog and filthy air.
Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires.
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