In time we hate that which we often fear.
Love that we cannot have is the one that lasts the longest,hurts the deepest,but feels the strongest
Heaven would that she these gifts should have, and I to live and die her slave.
And nothing is, but what is not.
Good words are better than bad strokes.
Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born? When at your hands did I deserve this scorn? Is't not enough, is't not enough, young man, That I did never, no, nor never can, Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye, But you must flout my insufficiency?