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sudsybudsybudsy on June 5, 2012
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Romeo and Juliet Quotes
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46 terms
Terms | Definitions |
|---|---|
 Chorus | From forth the fatal loins of these two foes/A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life. |
| Juliet | That which we calla rose/By another name would smell as sweet |
| Juliet | 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. |
| Montague | Alas, my liege, my wife is dead tonight. |
| Friar Lawrence | Love moderately;long love doth so./Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. |
| Nurse | Is this the poultice for my achine bones?/Henceforward do your messages yourself. |
| Juliet | Indeed, I never shall be satisfied/With Romeo till I behold him-dead-/Is my poor heart so for a kinsman vexed. |
| Friar Lawrence | Ah, what an unkind hour/Is guilty of this lamentable chance? |
| Capulet | Ladies that have their toes/Unplagued with corns will have a bout with you. |
| Romeo | He jests at scars that never felt a wound. |
| Sampson | When I have fought with the men,/I will be civil with the maids. |
| Juliet | O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon,/That monthly changes in her circled orb,/Lest that thy love prove likewise variable. |
| Benvolio | Compare her face with some that I shall show,/And I will make thee think thy swan a crow. |
| Juliet | Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day./It was the nightingale, and not the lark... |
| Paris | These times of woe afford no time to woo |
| Capulet | My heart is wondrous light,/Since this same wayward girl is so reclaimed. |
| Nurse | I shall never forget it: 'Wilt thou not, Jule? quoth he;/And the pretty fool, it stinted and said 'Ay.' |
| Prince Escalus | Let Romeo hence in haste,/Else, when he's found, that hour is his last |
| Romeo | Here's must to do with hate, but more with love./Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate. |
| Friar Lawrence | If aught in this/Miscarried by my fault, let my old life/Be sacrificed, some hour before his time,/Unto the rigor of severest law. |
| Capulet | Death lies on her like an untimely frost/Upon the sweetest flower of all the field |
| Chorus | Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean |
| Friar John | I could not send it-here it is again-/Nor get a messenger to bring it thee,/So fearful were they of infection. |
| Mercutio | Will you pluck your sword out of his pilcher by the ears?/Make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out. |
| Juliet | I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news. |
| Friar Lawrence | These violent delights have violent ends |
| Romeo | O, I am fortune's fool! |
| Montague | But I can give thee more;/For I will raise her statue in puer gold. |
| Nurse | There's no trust,/No faith, no honesty in men. |
| Tybalt | What, drawn...and talk of peace? I hate the word/As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee. |
| Paris | Stop thy unhallowed toil, vile Montague./Can vengeance be pursued further than death? |
| Romeo | Ay, me! Sad hours seem long. |
| Juliet | Good night, good night! |
| FRIAR LAWRENCE | Young men's love then lies Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes. |
| MERCUTIO | Alas, poor Romeo! He is already dead, stabbed with a white wench's black eye, shot through the ear with a love song |
| ROMEO | My life were better ended by their hate, Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love. |
| FRIAR LAWRENCE | The sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness And in the taste confounds the appetite. |
| Romeo | Oh, that I were a glove upon that hand That I might touch that cheek! |
| MERCUTIO | Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes. |
| CAPULET | He bears him like a portly gentleman, And, to say truth, Verona brags of him To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth. |
| BENVOLIO | We talk here in the public haunt of men. Either withdraw unto some private place, And reason coldly of your grievances, Or else depart. Here all eyes gaze on us. |
| ROMEO | Hang up philosophy! Unless philosophy can make a Juliet, Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom, |
| ROMEO | Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again. |
| ROMEO | O, what more favor can I do to thee, Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain To sunder his that was thine enemy? |
| TYBALT | I will withdraw, but this intrusion shall Now seeming sweet, convert to bitterest gall. |
| ROMEO | Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye Than twenty of their swords! Look thou but sweet, And I am proof against their enmity. |
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