| From forth the fatal loins of these two foes/ A pair of star-crossed lovers take their lives | Chorus |
| That which we call a rose/ By any other name would smell as sweet | Juliet |
| “My bounty is as boundless as the sea,/ My love as deep; the more I give to thee,/ The more I have, for both are infinite | Juliet |
| Alas, my liege, my wife is dead tonight. | Montague |
| True, I talk of dreams,/ Which are the children of an idle brain. | Mercutio |
| The hate I bear thee can afford/ No beter term than this- thou art a villan. | Tybalt |
| Indeed, I never shall be satisfied/ With Romeo till I behold him-dead-/ Is my poor heart so for a kinsman vexed. | Juliet |
| Ah, what an unkind hour/ Is guilty of this lamentable chance? | Friar |
| Ladies that have their toes/ Unplagued with corns will have a bout with you. | Capulet |
| O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! | Romeo |
| When I have fought with the men,/ I will be cruel with the maids. | Sampson |
| O, Swear not by the moon | Juliet |
| Compare her face with some that I shall show,/ And I will make thee think thy swan a crow. | Benvolio |
| No, ’tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door;/ but ’tis enough, ’twill serve. Ask for me tomorrow , and you/ will find me a grave man. | Mercutio |
| Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day./ It was the nightingale, and not the lark | Juliet |
| These times of woe afford no time to woo | Paris |
| My heart is wondrous light,/ Since this same wayward girl is so reclaimed. | Capulet |
| I shall never forget it; ‘Wilt thou not Jule?’ quoth he;/ And the pretty fool, it stinted and said ‘Ay.’ | Nurse |
| Let Romeo hence in hase,/ Else, when he’s found, that hour is his last. | Montague |
| Here’s much to do with hate, but more with love./ Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate. | Romeo |
| A plague o’ both your houses! | Mercutio |
| if aught in this/ Miscarried by my fault, let my old life/ Be sacrificed, some hour before his time,/ Unto the rigor of severest law. | Friar |
| Death lies on her like an untimely frost/ Upon the sweetest flower of all the field. | Capulet |
| Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. | Chorus |
| I could not send it- here it is again-/ Nor get a messenger to bring it thee,/ So fearful were they of infection. | Friar John |
| Will you pluck your sword out of his pilcher by the ears?/ Make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out. | Mercutio |
| I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news. | Juliet |
| He jests at scars that never felt a wound. | Romeo |
Romeo and Juliet Quotes
August 15, 2019