Cease thy counsel, for thy words fall into my ears as priceless as water into a seive.

Do not plunge thyself too far in anger.

Seems," madam? Nay, it is; I know not "seems." 'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, Nor customary suits of solemn black, Nor windy suspiration of forced breath, No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, Nor the dejected 'havior of the visage, Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief, That can denote me truly: these indeed seem, For they are actions that a man might play: But I have that within which passeth show; These but the trappings and the suits of woe.

The moon shines bright. In such a night as this. When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees and they did make no noise, in such a night.

O! that a man might know The end of this day's business, ere it come; But it sufficeth that the day will end, And then the end is known.

When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept: Ambition should be made of sterner stuff: Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honourable man.

ROSS You must have patience, madam. LADY MACDUFF He had none: His flight was madness: when our actions do not, Our fears do make us traitors.