O, that our fathers would applause our loves, To seal our happiness with hteir consents!

I profess not talking: only this, Let each man do his best.

I always thought it was both impious and unnatural that such immanity and bloody strife should reign among professors of one faith.

To me, fair friend, you never can be old, For as you were when first your eye I ey'd, Such seems your beauty still.

Faith, there hath been many great men that have flattered the people who ne'er loved them.

What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.