- He jests at scars, but never felt a wound.
- But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks?
- It is east, and Juliet is the sun!
- Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow,
That I shall say good night till it be morrow.
- See! How she leans her cheek upon her hand:
O! that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek.
- What is in a name? That which we call a rose
- by any other name would smell as sweet.
- This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,
- May prove beautieous flower when next we meet.
- O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art though 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.
- ↑ King's Questions
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