"This gentleman, the prince's near ally, My very friend, hath got this mortal hurt In my behalf; my reputation stain'd…"

"Lady Capulet: I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give; Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live. Prince: Romeo…"

"Romeo: Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much. Mercutio: No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church-door;…"

"Mercutio: Why the devil came you between us? I was hurt under your arm. Romeo: I thought all for the best. Mercutio: …"

"Is there no pity sitting in the clouds, That sees into the bottom of my grief?"

"O, I am fortune's fool!"

"Villain and he be many miles asunder."

"Benvolio: What, art thou hurt? Mercutio: Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough."

"Some grief shows much of love, But much of grief shows still some want of wit."

"For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night Whiter than new snow on a raven's back."