“Still it cried ‘Sleep no more!’ to all the house: ‘Glamis hath murder’d sleep, and therefore Cawdor shall sleep no more,—Macbeth shall sleep no more!”

“Methought I heard a voice cry, Sleep no more!Macbeth does murder sleep, - the innocent sleep;Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care, The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath,Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast.”

“Macbeth does murder sleep - the innocent sleep,Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care,The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, chief nourisher in life's feast.”

“O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frightened thee. That thou no more will weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness?”

“Thy best of rest is sleep,And that thou oft provok'st; yet grossly fear'stThy death, which is no more.”

“Nor shall this peace sleep with her; but as whenThe bird of wonder dies, the maiden phoenix,Her ashes new-create another heirAs great in admiration as herself.”

“To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;For in that sleep of death what dreams may come?”