"Come you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here,
And
fill me from the crown to the toe top-full
Of direst cruelty. Make thick my
blood.
Stop up th'access and passage to remorse,
That no compunctious
visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
Th'effect and it. Come to my woman's breasts
And take my milk for gall,
you murd'ring ministers..."
Lady Mcbeth