Honesty is not the best policy - merely the safest

And why not death rather than living torment? To die is to be banish'd from myself; And Silvia is myself: banish'd from her Is self from self: a deadly banishment!

Present mirth hath present laughter. What's to come is still unsure.

A glooming peace this morning with it brings; The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished: For never was a story of more woe Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.

If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottage princes' palaces.

What valor were it, when a cur doth grin, for one to thrust his hand between his teeth, when he might spurn him with his foot away?

O, reason not the need!