Imagery Quotes in Macbeth

Eye of newt, and toe of frog, / Wool of bat, and tongue of dog, / Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting, / Lizard's leg, and howlet's wing, / For a charm of powerful trouble, / Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave his babes, / His mansion, and his titles, in a place / From whence himself does fly? He loves us not: / He wants the natural touch; for the poor wren, / The most diminutive of birds, will fight, / Her young ones in her nest, against the owl.

Let us rather / Hold fast the mortal sword, and, like good men, / Bestride our down-fall’n birthdom. Each new morn / New widows howl, new orphans cry; new sorrows / Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds / As if it felt with Scotland, and yell’d out / Like syllable of dolour.

I have almost forgot the taste of fears. / The time has been, my senses would have cool’d / To hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair / Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir / As life were in’t. I have supp’d full with horrors; / Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, / Cannot once start me.

Your leafy screens throw down, / And show like those you are.—

Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane, / And thou oppos’d, being of no woman born, / Yet I will try the last. Before my body / I throw my warlike shield: lay on, Macduff; / And damn’d be him that first cries, “Hold, enough!”

Doubtful it stood; / As two spent swimmers that do cling together / And choke their art.

The Weird Sisters, hand in hand, / Posters of the sea and land, / Thus do go about, about: / Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine, / And thrice again, to make up nine. / Peace!—the charm’s wound up.

What are these, / So wither’d, and so wild in their attire, / That look not like the inhabitants o’ th’ earth, / And yet are on’t?—Live you? or are you aught / That man may question?

I will drain him dry as hay: / Sleep shall neither night nor day / Hang upon his pent-house lid; / He shall live a man forbid.