"Out, damned spot! Out, I say!" Lady Macbeth, Macbeth"Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather the multitudinous seas incarnadine, making the green one red." Macbeth, Macbeth"I scrubbed myself raw, desperately trying to get the bloodout, out of my fingernails, out of my hair, out of my mind. I got two out of three, I think." Martin Rose, Undocumented Features: Dies IraeAdvertisement:"There is blood on my head! Can you not see the blood on my head!" The CrucibleSee the lady.
She is Mrs. Macbeth.
She is washing her hands.
Because her hands are all bloodstained.
Ecch, ecch, ecch!
She has just helped Macbeth kill the King.
Why did Mrs. Macbeth help Macbeth kill the King?
Because the Macbeths always do everything together!
Togetherness, togetherness, togetherness.
Out, damned spot! says Mrs. Macbeth.
Mrs. Macbeth has dirty hands, all right.
She also has a dirty mouth! MADs Shakespeare primer, Macbeth Lesson 2.No matter how much you scrub, you'll never be clean Justin! NEVER BE CLEAN, JUSTIN! The Justin Bieber Show
, Harry PartridgeThere's blood on your hands from somewhere new/Wash it away, wash it away [...]
But even in your dreams/You can't get your hands clean. "Blood on Your Hands", The ProclaimersAdvertisement:"I can't get the smell of blood off my hands! It's sickening!" Inuyasha, InuyashaOh Emperor, this blood. Will I never be clean? Magos Biologis Darvus, Warhammer 40,000: Xenology"Itwontcomeoffitwontcomeoffitwontcomeoffitwontcomeoffitwontcomeoff..." Dorothy, The Land of What Might-Have-Been"...Branded for life." Prompto Argentum, Final Fantasy XV Episode Prompto"Hawkeye is an Avengerno question ... But still, all that blood doesn't wash away easily. It's under your fingertips. It's grafted on your skin. The smell is forever looming in your nostrils. The screams echo in your ears. The hate stains your mind. Laura and the kids may have returned from the snap, but Clint Barton likely never will." Returning the Stones"Hands are bleeding, raw. I scrub and scrub but the smell will not lift. How can I hold my children with these hands now? How can I kiss them goodnight with lips that have issued such instruction?" Oswald Mandus, Amnesia: A Machine for PigsAdvertisement: