Was the hope drunk,

Wherein you dress'd yourself? hath it slept since,

And wakes it now, to look so green and pale

At what it did so freely? From this time

Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard

To be the same in thine own act and valour

As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that

Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life,

And live a coward in thine own esteem,

Letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would,'

Like the poor cat in the adage?

 

--Lady Macbeth to Macbeth

 

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You can go to Washington, D.C. next year.
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