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O flesh, flesh, how art thou fishified!
– William Shakespeare
O, I am Fortune’s fool!
A plague o’ both your houses!
Stabbed with a white wench’s black eye.
ROMEO: Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much. MERCUTIO: No, ’tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church-door; but ’tis enough, ’twill serve.
Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say good night till it be morrow.
Thy head is as full of quarrels as an egg is full of meat.
My man’s as true as steel.
Come, civil night, Thou sober-suited matron, all in black.
He is the courageous captain of complements.
O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face! Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?
Was ever book containing such vile matter So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell In such a gorgeous palace!
Thou cutt’st my head off with a golden axe.
Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day: It was the nightingale, and not the lark, That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear.
Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds.
Death lies on her like an untimely frost Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.
There’s no trust, No faith, no honesty in men.
The strength Of twenty men.
Romeo’s a dishclout to him.
Tempt not a desperate man.
Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night, And pay no worship to the garish sun.
Night’s candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops.
Adversity’s sweet milk, philosophy.
These sorrows make me old.
Affliction is enamoured of thy parts, And thou art wedded to calamity.
Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-browed night.
Her beauty makes This vault a feasting presence full of light.
I have more care to stay than will to go.
Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical!
How oft when men are at the point of death Have they been merry! which their keepers call A lightning before death.