A pair of star-crossed lovers.

I am not yet of Percy's mind, the Hotspur of the North; he that kills me some six or seven dozen of Scots as a breakfast, washes his hands, and says to his wife, 'Fie upon this quiet life! I want work.

Macduff: What three things does drink especially provoke? Porter: Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and urine.

The ostentation of our love, which, left unshown, is often left unloved.

They do not love that do not show their love.

And yet,to say the truth, reason and love keep little company together nowadays.

Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius, That you would have me seek into myself For that which is not in me?