| Quote | Character |
|---|
| Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting... Now seeming sweet, convert to bitterest gall. | |
| Thus from my lips by thine my sin be purged. | |
| Am I the master here, or you? go to. You'll not endure him! | |
| Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover! Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh | |
| Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe. | |
| Scurvy knave! | |
| See, where he comes: so please you, step aside; | |
| Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death, And therefore have I little talk'd of love; | |
| | Quote | Character |
|---|
| Thou villain Capulet,—Hold me not, let me go. | |
| Going to find a bare-foot brother out One of our order, to associate me,... | |
| For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout: His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt. | |
| As one dead in the bottom of a tomb:Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale. | |
| These violent delights have violent endsAnd in their triumph die, like fire and powder,Which as they kiss consume. | |
| Therefore, have done: some grief shows much of love;But much of grief shows still some want of wit. | |
| See what a scourge is laid upon your hate,That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love. | |
|
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