The one I love is the son of the one I hate! -Juliet p. 75
How is it that the clouds still hang on you?
The empty vessel makes the loudest sound.
Doubt is a thief that often makes us fear to tread where we might have won.
Friendship is constant in all other things Save in the office and affairs of love. Therefore all hearts in love use their own tongues. Let every eye negotiate for itself, And trust no agent; for beauty is a witch Against whose charms faith melteth into blood.
What is thy sentence then but speechless death.