William Shakespeare Quotes - Page 67 | Just Great DataBase

The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace.

Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh,Your vows to her and me, put in two scales,Will even weigh, and both as light as tales.

For gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite the man that mocks at it and sets it light.

And with a little pin bores through his castle wall and farewell king.

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 taleTold by an idiot, full of sound and fury,Signifying nothing.

Our nearness to the king in love is nearness to those who love not the king.

If you can look into the seeds of time (60) And say which grain will grow and which will not, Speak, then, to me, who neither beg nor fear Your favors nor your hate.

If I turn mine eyes upon myself, I find myself a traitor with the rest;

What bloody man is that? He can report,As seemeth by his plight, of the revoltThe newest state.

It is also significant that the play opens with the objective presence of supernatural forces. The witches are not the figment of someone else’s imagination because there is nobody else present to witness them. They are alone, and therefore they stand alone, utterly independent. We are in the real presence of evil, an evil that really exists whether we like it or not, an evil that is not merely the product of our fetid fetishes or our fevered imaginations. In its formal structure, therefore, Macbeth places us unequivocally in a supernatural cosmos, rendering implausible all materialistic interpretations of the play’s intrinsic meaning.

Why should I play the Roman fool and die On mine own sword? Whiles I see lives, the gashes Do better upon them.

امنح الحزن كلمات. فالفجيعة التى لا تُنطق إنما تُهامس القلب الفائض بالألم، وتأمره بأن ينحط.

Upon the heath.

Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill.

And my poor fool is hanged. No, no, no life?
Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life,
And thou no breath at all? Thou 'lt come no more,
Never, never, never, never, never.

By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.

Thanks for that.

The near in blood,The nearer bloody.

Life is a tale, told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing

Go, prick thy face and over-red thy fear,Thou lily-livered boy.