Out, damned spot! out, I say!-One, two; why, then 'tis time to do't.-Hell is murky!-Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account?-Yet who would have thought the old man to have so much blood in him? The thane of Fife had a wife; where is she now?-What, will these hands ne'er be clean?-No more o'that, my lord, no more o'that: you mar all with this starting. Here's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh, oh, oh!
( William Shakespeare )
[ Macbeth ]
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