But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
If I profane with my unworthiest hand This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
These violent delights have violent ends And in their triump die, like fire and powder Which, as they kiss, consume — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Love moderately; long love doth so; too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image