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He, that is strucken blind, cannot forget the precious treasure of his eyesight lost.-Rom. I., 1.


He jests at scars that never felt a wound.-Rom.


Her eye discourses, I will answer it.—Rom. II., 2.


I, measuring his affections by my own,—that most are busied when they are most alone,--pursu'd my humour, not pursuing his, and gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me.-BEN. I., 1.

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I'll now his grievance, or be much denied.-BEN. I., 1.

I'll look to like, if looking liking move.—JUL. I., 3.

Is love a tender thing? it is too rough, too rude, too boist'rous; and it pricks like thorn.-Rom. I., 4.

I talk of dreams; which are the children of an idle brain, begot of nothing but vain fantasy; which is as thin of substance as the air; and more inconstant than the wind, who wooes even now the frozen bosom of the north, and, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, turning his face to the dew-dropping south.-MER. I., 4.

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It was the lark, the herald of the morn, no nightingale : look, love, what envious streaks do lace the severing clouds in yonder east: night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.-Rom. III., 5.

I have more

care to stay than will to go.-Rom.

III., 5.

In one little body thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind: for still thy eyes, which I may call a sea, do ebb

I and flow with tears; the bark thy body is, sailing in this salt flood; the winds, thy sighs ; who, -raging with thy tears, and they with them,—without a sudden calm, will overset the tempest-tossed body.-CAP.




Is there no pity sitting in the clouds, that sees into the bottom of my grief.-JUL. III., 5.


It is-music with her silver sound, because such fellows as you have seldom gold for sounding.–PET. IV., 5.

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I do remember an apothecary,—and hereabouts he dwells, whom late I noted in tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows, culling of simples.-Rom. V., 1.

I will raise her statue in pure gold ; that, while Verona by that name is known, there shall no figure at such rate be set, as that of true and faithful Juliet. — Mon. V., 3.

J Joy comes well in such a needful time.-JUL. III., 5.



Love is a smoke rais’d with the fume of sighs ; being


purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; being vex d, a sea nourished with lovers' tears: what is it else? a madness most discreet, a choking gall, and a preserving sweet.-Rom. I., 1.

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Love goes toward love, as school-boys from their books : but love from love, toward school with heavy looks.—Rom. II., 2.

Love moderately; long love doth so; too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.-FRI. II., 9.


My only love sprung from my only hate! too early seen unknown, and known to late.—JUL. I., 5.

My life were better ended by their hate, than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.—Rom. II., 2.

Many for many virtues excellent, none but for some, and yet all different.-FRI. II., 3.

My bosom’s lord sits lightly in his throne; and, all this day, an unaccustom'd spirit lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.-Rom. V., 1.

Mischief! thou art swift to enter in the thoughts of desperate men !-Rom. V., 1.


Nought so vile that on the earth doth live, but to. the earth some special good doth give.-FRI. II., 3.

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O, she is rich in beauty; only poor, that when she dies, with beauty dies her store.—Rom. I., 1.

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One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish !-BEN.

I., 2.

One desperate grief cures with another's languish.Ben. I., 2.

0, then, I see, queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fairies' midwife ; and she comes in shape no bigger than an agate-stone on the fore-finger of an alderman, drawn with a team of little atomies athwart men's noses as they lie asleep.—MER. I., 4.

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O, that I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek !--Rom. II., 2.

0, Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo:



0, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon that monthly changes in her circled orb, lest that thy love prove likewise variable.—JUL. II., 2.

O, for a falconer's voice, to lure this tassle-gentle back again ! bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud ; else would I tear the cave where echo lies, and make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine with repetition of my Romeo's name.—JUL. II., 2.

O fortune, fortune : all men call thee fickle: if thou art fickle, what dost thou with him that is renown'd for faith ?-JUL. III., 5.


Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.-Tyb. I., 5.

Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say— good night, till it be morrow.-JUL. II., 2.


Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift.-Fri. II., 3.

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So shews a snowy dove trooping with crows, as yonder lady o'er her fellows shews.-Rom. I., 5.

So light a foot will ne'er wear out the everlasting Aint.-FRI. II., 6.

Some grief shews much of love; but much of grief shews still some want of wit.-LA. CAP. III., 5.


The grey-ey'd morn smiles on the frowning night, checkering the eastern clouds with streaks of light; and flecked darkness like a drunkard reels from forth day's path-way, made by Titan's wheels.-FRI. II., 3.

Thou sham’st the music of sweet news by playing it to me with so sour a face.—JUL. II., 5.

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