📔 Macbeth

Quotes from this book

Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair, / And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, And pity, like a naked new-born babe, / Striding the blast, or heaven’s cherubin, hors’d / Upon the sightless couriers of the air, / Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, / That tears shall drown the wind. Not in the legions / Of horrid hell can come a devil more damn’d / In evils to top Macbeth.