Quotes to inspire and reflect

No worse a husband than the best of men.

My salad days, When I was green in judgment.

We, ignorant of ourselves, Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers Deny us for our good; so find we profit By losing of our prayers.

My man of men.

A morsel for a monarch.

The demi-Atlas of this earth, the arm And burgonet of men.

Where’s my serpent of old Nile?

O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony!

Give me to drink mandragora…. That I might sleep out this great gap of time My Antony is away.

O! my oblivion is a very Antony, And I am all forgotten.

Good now, play one scene Of excellent dissembling, and let it look Like perfect honor.

On the sudden A Roman thought hath struck him.

Eternity was in our lips and eyes, Bliss in our brows bent.

In nature’s infinite book of secrecy A little I can read.

I love long life better than figs.

There’s beggary in the love that can be reckon’d.

Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch Of the rang’d empire fall! Here is my space. Kingdoms are clay.

You shall see in him The triple pillar of the world transform’d Into a strumpet’s fool.

Lay on, Macduff, And damn’d be him that first cries, “Hold, enough!”

And be these juggling fiends no more believ’d, That palter with us in a double sense; That keep the word of promise to our ear And break it to our hope.

Live to be the show and gaze o’ the time.

I bear a charmed life.

Macduff was from his mother’s womb Untimely ripp’d.

Why should I play the Roman fool; and die On mine own sword?

Blow, wind! come, wrack! At least we’ll die with harness on our back.

She should have died hereafter; There would have been a time for such a word. Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, 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 ’gin to be aweary of the sun, And wish the estate o’ the world were now undone.

Hang out our banners on the outward walls; The cry is still, “They come”; our castle’s strength Will laugh a siege to scorn.

My fell of hair Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir As life were in ’t. I have supp’d full with horrors.

Macbeth: Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas’d, Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, Raze out the written troubles of the brain, And with some sweet oblivious antidote Cleanse the stuff’d bosom of that perilous stuff Which weighs upon the heart? Doctor: Therein the patient Must minister to himself. Macbeth: Throw physic to the dogs; I’ll none of it.

I would applaud thee to the very echo, That should applaud again.

I have liv’d long enough: my way of life Is fall’n into the sere, the yellow leaf; And that which should accompany old age, As honor, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have; but, in their stead, Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honor, breath, Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.

Thou lily-liver’d boy.

The devil damn thee black, thou cream-fac’d loon! Where gott’st thou that goose look?

Those he commands move only in command, Nothing in love; now does he feel his title Hang loose about him, like a giant’s robe Upon a dwarfish thief.

All my pretty ones? Did you say all? O hell-kite! All? What! all my pretty chickens and their dam At one fell swoop?

Malcolm: Dispute it like a man. Macduff: I shall do so; But I must also feel it as a man: I cannot but remember such things were, That were most precious to me.

Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell, Uproar the universal peace, confound All unity on earth.

Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak Whispers the o’er-fraught heart and bids it break.

He wants the natural touch.

Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell.

What! will the line stretch out to the crack of doom?

When our actions do not, Our fears do make us traitors.

Macbeth shall never vanquish’d be until Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill Shall come against him. 50

Show his eyes, and grieve his heart; Come like shadows, so depart.

But yet I’ll make assurance double sure, And take a bond of fate.

Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn The power of man, for none of woman born Shall harm Macbeth.

A deed without a name.