RoyalOrleans
New member
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-oppressed brain? I see thee yet, in form as palpable as this which now I draw.
MacBeth, Act II Scene I, MacBeth, William Shakespeare
MacBeth, Act II Scene I, MacBeth, William Shakespeare