Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Out, brief candle.
This is the air-drawn dagger which you said led you to Duncan.
Out.
But screw your courage to the sticking place
the Lord's anointed temple
his two chamberlains will I with wine and wassail so convince
in one fell swoop?
Your castle is surprised,
Feed and regard him not.
It cannot be called our mother but our graves.
This is the very painting of your fear.
The English force, so please you.
the instruments of darkness tell us truths,
Renown and grace is dead.
That we but teach bloody instructions which return to plague the inventor.
you bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself,
All is confirmed, my Lord, which was reported.
He's worth more sorrow, and that I'll spend for him.
the head,
'What's he that was not born of woman?
'They have tied me to a stake.
Front to front
and stole thence the life of the building.
'Nothing in love.
Gracious England hath lent us ten thousand men.
No,
To the selfsame tune and words.
whose sole name blisters our tongues,
'Glamis,
Be it thought and done.
and poured them down before him.
disdaining fortune, with his brandished steel
Stands Scotland where it did?
Great happiness.
Macbeth. Hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor.
Had I but died an hour before this chance,
To me you speak not.
If it were done when 'tis done,
If we should fail?
Hell is murky.
but in best time we will require her welcome.
Now, o'er the one half-world,
Is't known who did this more than bloody deed?
What are these?
Are you a man?
Is this a dagger which I see before me?
Sleek o'er your rugged looks.
had I so sworn, as you have done, to this.
Come to my woman's breasts and take my milk for gall,
Yet here's a spot.
was once thought honest.
That trusted home might yet enkindle you unto the crown
I'll be myself the harbinger
wherever, in your sightless substances, you wait on nature's mischief.
I'll put it on!
you would be so much more the man.
Where got'st thou that goose look?