Banquo quotes

O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly!

Thou hast it now: King, Cawdor, Glamis, all, as the weird women promised, and I fear thou played’st most foully for’t.

I would, thou couldst.

What are these, so withered and so wild in their attire, that look not like the inhabitants o’ the earth and yet are on’t?

To-night we hold a solemn supper, sir, and I’ll request your presence.

But ’tis strange: and oftentimes, to win us to our harm, the instruments of darkness tell us truths, win us with honest trifles, to betray’s in deepest consequence.

Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none.

The time has been, that when the brains were out, the man would die, and there an end; but now they rise again.

Ay, my good lord, our time does call upon us.

I take my leave of you: shall not be long but I’ll be here again.

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

What, sir, not yet at rest?

Thrusting his way up to the life! A heart deep-dyed in merciless ambition.

There, if I grow, the harvest is your own.

The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, and these are of them.

But there’s no bottom, none, in my voluptuousness.

What’s done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed!

I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters.

Banquo quotes part 2

Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly! Thou mayst revenge.

I fear thou played’st most foully for’t.

O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly!

There’s daggers in men’s smiles.

Double, double, toil and trouble; fire burn and caldron bubble.

In the great hand of God I stand.

Will it not be received, when we have marked with blood those sleepy two of his own chamber and used their very daggers, that they have done’t?

Tis said they ate each other.

And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, the instruments of darkness tell us truths, win us with honest trifles, to betray’s in deepest consequence.

Double, double, toil and trouble; fire burn and cauldron bubble.

We have scotched the snake, not killed it.

It will have blood, they say: blood will have blood.

What, sir, not yet at rest?

The times has been, That, when the brains were out, the man would die, And there an end

Tyrant, show thy face! If thou beest slain and with no stroke of mine, my wife and children’s ghosts will haunt me still.

Thou hast it now: King, Cawdor, Glamis, all, as the weird women promised, and I fear thou played’st most foully for’t.

I would, thou couldst.

Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none.

But ’tis strange, and oftentimes, to win us to our harm, the instruments of darkness tell us truths, win us with honest trifles, to betray’s in deepest consequence.

There is none but he whose being I do fear; and under him my genius is rebuked.

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

What are these, so withered and so wild in their attire, that look not like the inhabitants o’ the earth and yet are on’t?

I will not be afraid of death and bane, till Birnam Forest come to Dunsinane.

A heavy summons lies like lead upon me; and yet I would not sleep. Merciful powers, restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature gives way to in repose!

I am one, my liege, whom the vile blows and buffets of the world have so incensed that I am reckless what I do to spite the world.

Now go to the door, and stay there till we call.

Let us seek out some desolate shade, and there weep our sad bosoms empty.