Still it cried โSleep no more!โ to all the house: โGlamis hath murderโd sleep, and therefore Cawdor shall sleep no more,โMacbeth shall sleep no more!
William ShakespeareAnd worse I may be yet: the worst is not So long as we can say 'This is the worst.
William ShakespeareThis man, lady, hath robb'd many beasts of their particular additions: he is as valiant as a lion, churlish as the bear, slow as the elephant-a man into whom nature hath so crowded humours that his valour is crush'd into folly, his folly sauced with discretion.
William ShakespeareKent. Where's the king? Gent. Contending with the fretful elements; Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea, Or swell the curled waters 'bove the main, That things might change or cease; tears his white hair, Which the impetuous blasts, with eyeless rage, Catch in their fury and make nothing of; Strives in his little world of man to outscorn The to-and-fro-conflicting wind and rain. This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear would couch, The lion and the belly-pinched wolf Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs, And bids what will take all.
William Shakespeare