"Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks that rent the air, Are made, not markt; where violent sorrow seems A modern ecstasy: the dead man's knell Is there scarce askt for who; and good men's lives Expire before the flowers in their caps, Dying or e'er they sicken."

"Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak Whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break."

"Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life; Whose misadventured piteous overthrows Do with their death bury their parents' strife."

"I am hurt; A plague o' both your houses! I am sped."

"Mercutio: O calm, dishonourable, vile submission! Alla stoccata carries it away. [Draws] Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk? Tybalt: What wouldst thou have with me? Mercutio: Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine lives."

"Romeo, the hate I bear thee can afford No better term than this,—thou art a villain."

"Thy head is as full of quarrels as an egg is full of meat."

"Thou! why, thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more, or a hair less, in his beard than thou hast: thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes."

"Thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy, and as soon moved to be moody and as soon moody to be moved."

"The day is hot, the Capulets abroad, And, if we meet, we shall not 'scape a brawl; For now these hot days is the mad blood stirring."

"Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, Brags of his substance, not of ornament: They are but beggars that can count their worth."

"O, so light a foot Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint."

"Therefore, love moderately; long love doth so; Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow."

"The sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness And in the taste confounds the appetite."

"These violent delights have violent ends And in their triumph die, like fire and powder Which as they kiss consume."

"Love's heralds should be thoughts, Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams Driving back shadows over louring hills: Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love, And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings."

"Two may keep counsel, putting one away."

"A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk, and will speak more in a minute than he will stand to in a month."

"Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most sharp sauce."

"I am the very pink of courtesy."

"Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast."

"Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here! Is Rosaline, whom thou didst love so dear, So soon forsaken? young men's love then lies Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes."

"Then plainly know my heart's dear love is set On the fair daughter of rich Capulet: As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine; And all combined, save what thou must combine By holy marriage: when, and where, and how, We met, we woo'd and made exchange of vow, I'll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray, That thou consent to marry us to-day."

"Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye, And where care lodges, sleep will never lie; But where unbruised youth with unstuff'd brain Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign."

"Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied."

"For nought so vile that on the earth doth live, But to the earth some special good doth give; Nor aught so good, but, strain'd from that fair use, Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse: Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied, And vice sometime's by action dignified."

"The earth that's nature's mother is her tomb; What is her burying grave, that is her womb."

"The grey-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night, Chequering the eastern clouds with streaks of light."

"Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow That I shall say good night till it be morrow."

"'Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone: And yet no farther than a wanton's bird, Who lets it hop a little from her hand, Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves, And with a silk thread plucks it back again, So loving-jealous of his liberty."

"And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget, Forgetting any other home but this."

"It is my soul that calls upon my name: How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, Like softest music to attending ears!"

"Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from their books, But love from love, toward school with heavy looks."

"Romeo: O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied? Juliet: What satisfaction canst thou have to-night? Romeo: The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine. Juliet: I gave thee mine before thou didst request it: And yet I would it were to give again. Romeo: Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love? Juliet: But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have: My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite."

"Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be Ere one can say 'It lightens.'"

"Do not swear at all; Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, Which is the god of my idolatry."

"O, swear not by the moon, th' inconstant moon, That monthly changes in her circled orb, Lest that thy love prove likewise variable."

"At lovers' perjuries, They say, Jove laughs."

"Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye Than twenty of their swords."

"For stony limits cannot hold love out: And what love can do, that dares love attempt."

"I take thee at thy word: Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized; Henceforth I never will be Romeo."

"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part Belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, And for thy name, which is no part of thee, Take all myself."

"O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet."

"See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek!"

"But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun!"

"He jests at scars that never felt a wound."

"Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied; Cry but 'ay me!' pronounce but 'love' and 'dove.'"

"But passion lends them power, time means, to meet, Tempering extremities with extreme sweet."