Composed and Edited With Amendments By: Jason Horn
This passage has long been a personal favorite of mine. The rhythm is predominantly straightforward , which makes it one of the easier speeches to illustrate the fundamentals of Shakespeare's versification. Add to it the pure psychological insight of a man standing on the precipice of regicide, alongside the vivid language and imagery, and it's not difficult to see why this speech is viewed as a paragon among the Bard's greatest soliloquies.
Toirdelbach Ua Briain (called Brian)
Donald Goines lacked the education and literary pedigree to write as eloquently as the likes of Cormac McCarthy or Toni Morrison, and while other American writers of his generation were brought up on Steinbeck and Faulkner, Goines was brought up on Iceberg Slim. Drawing on his own experience, though, Goines was able to write as van Gogh painted, […]
Malcolm: This ambitious foul infirmity, in having much, torments us with defect of that we have: so then we do neglect our duties and our morality. Evil be my good, desire my pilot, beauty my prize.
Enjoying "Macbeth" by William Shakespeare
Is this a dagger which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee.
I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible
To feeling as to sight? Or art thou but
A dagger of the mind, a false creation,
Proceeding from the heat-oppressèd brain?
I see thee yet, in form as palpable
As this which now I draw.
Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going;
And such an instrument I was to use.
Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses,
Or else worth all the rest; I see thee still,
And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood,
Which was not so before. There's no such thing:
It is the bloody business which informs
Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one half world
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
The curtain'd sleep; witchcraft celebrates
Pale Hecate's offerings, and wither'd Murder,
Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf,
Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design
Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth,
Hear not my steps which way they walk, for fear
Thy very stones prate of my whereabout
And take the present horror from the time
Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives:
Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.
Warning: Macbeth is supposed to upset people
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