But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

But yet I'll make assurance double sure, and take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live.

Cease to lament for that thou canst not help; and study help for that which thou lamentest.

There's no trust, No faith, no honesty in men; all perjured, All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.

Sweets grown common lose their dear delight.

Wise men ne'er sit and wail their woes, but presently prevent the ways to wail.

I have very poor and unhappy brains for drinking: I could well wish courtesy would invent some other custom of entertainment.