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: He jests at scars that never felt a wound.
: Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn. Mercutio
: If love be rough with you, be rough with love. Prick love for pricking and you beat love down.
: He that hath the steerage of my course, direct my sail!
: Why, Romeo, art thou mad? Romeo
: Not mad, but bound more than a mad man is. Shut up in prison, kept without my food, whipped and tormented.
: Did my heart love 'til now? Forswear its sight. For I never saw true beauty 'til this night.
: O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied? Juliet
: What satisfaction canst thou have tonight? Romeo
: The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine. Juliet
: I gave thee mine before thou didst request it!
: Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee tonight.
: O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, who monthly changes in her circled orb, lest that thy love prove likewise variable. Romeo
: What shall I swear by? Juliet
: Do not swear at all. Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, which is the god of my idolatry, and I'll believe thee.
: I am Fortune's fool!
: If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this. My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. Juliet
: Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this. For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss. Romeo
: Have not saints lips, and holy palmers, too? Juliet
: Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. Romeo
: Well, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair. Juliet
: Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake. Romeo
: Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. Romeo
: [They kiss
] Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged. Juliet
: Then have my lips the sin that they have took? Romeo
: Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again. Juliet
: [they kiss again
] You kiss by the book.
: O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name, or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I'll no longer be a Capulet. Romeo
: Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this? Juliet
: 'Tis but thy name that is my enemy, thou art thyself though not a Montague. What is Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. Oh, what's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other word would smell as sweet; so Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, retain that dear perfection to which he owes without that title. Romeo, doff thy name! And for thy name, which is no part of thee, take all myself.
: But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
: Eyes, look your last! Arms, take your last embrace!
: Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die.
: I dreamt a dream tonight. Mercutio
: And so did I. Romeo
: And what was yours? Mercutio
: That dreamers often lie. Mercutio
: O! Then I see Queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fairies' midwife, and comes in a shape no bigger than an agate-stone, on the fore-finger of an alderman, drawn with a little team of atomies, over men's noses as they lie asleep. Her chariot is an empty hazelnut. Her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat. And in this state, she gallops, night by night, through lovers' brains and then they dream of... love! O'er lawyers fingers who straight dream on fees. Sometimes she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, and then dreams he of cutting foreign throats. And then, being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two and sleeps again.
[becoming more passionate
: This is the hag, when maids lie on their BACKS, that presses them! And learns them first to bear, making them women of good carriage! This is she! THIS IS SHE!
: Tempt not a desperate man!
: I defy you, stars!
: The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law.
: Be satisfied!
: [to Tybalt
] Either thou, or I, or both must go with him!
: Death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath, hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.
: If they do see thee they will murder thee. Romeo
: I have night's cloak to hide me from their eyes, but thou love me, let them find me here. My life were better ended by their hate than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.
: [refusing to fight
] Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee doth much excuse the appertaining rage to such a greeting. Villain am I none. Therefore farewell. I see thou knowest me not.
: I am forgetful
: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand To smooth that rough touch with a gentle kiss.
[enter Juliet above at a window
: But soft. What light through yonder window breaks?
: Thus with a kiss I die.
: But soft; what light through yonder window breaks? It is my lady! O, it is my love. O that she knew she were.
: Death that hath sucked the honey of thy breath hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.
: Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.
: O,she doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear; Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows
: I defy you, stars.
: Oh, I am fortune's fool!
: Under loves heavy burden do I sink.
: He that is strucken blind can not forget the precious treasure of his eyesight lost.
: Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs.
: It is my lady, O, it is my love! Oh, that she knew she were!
: Julie baby, I'm ga-ga about you. No kiddin', honey, your teeth are like pearls, your eyes are like diamonds and your lips - like rubies.
: No, on the level, honest. You're the pansies in my garden, the cream in my mocha and java, the berries in my pie.
: [to Juliet
] By yonder blessed moon, I swear. Which tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops...
: What do you say to a little ride and such? "Modern" Juliet
: Well, the ride part of it sounds interesting, maybe. But, I'm not so sure about that suching!
: Oh, Gnomeo, Gnomeo, are we really doomed to never see each other again? Why must you wear a blue hat? Why couldn't it be red like my father, or green like... like a leprechaun... or purple like, ummm, like some weird guy - I mean what's in a gnome? Because you are blue, my father sees red, and because I am red, I am feeling blue. Oh, at any rate that shouldn't be the thing to keep us apart, should it? Gnomeo
: No, no, it shouldn't! I couldn't have said it better myself! Juliet
: Oh, my giddy aunt, did you just hear all that? What are you doing here? Gnomeo
: I don't know! I just wanted to, uh
[Gives a nervous chuckle
: , I just wanted to see you again! Juliet
: Are you crazy? If my dad finds you he'll bury you under the patio! Gnomeo
: 'Finds me', are you joking? 'Stealth' is my middle name!
[Steps on the button which sets off a display of bright lights
: Let's kick some grass!
: He's a Blue! Gnomeo
: She's a Red! Featherstone
: And I'm Pink - who cares!
[Juliet is worried someone may have heard the collapse of the log pile
: It's alright - nobody lives here. Juliet
: Then why are you whispering? Gnomeo
: Why are you whispering? Juliet
: [Spotting something behind Gnomeo
] Wow - look at that!
[Runs towards it
: I guess we're finished with the whispering thing!
: What light from yonder Plexiglas breaks?
: Parting is such sweet sorrow. Tromeo Que
: Yeah, it totally sucks.
: [fighting Tromeo on the street
] Get ready to die, Mother Fucker! GET READY TO DIE! Tromeo Que
: It happens to us... sooner or... LADDER!
[Tromeo pushes Tyrone into a car with a ladder sticking out the side
: Juliet, Thank you... It was because of you I was able to feel love for the first time... I am grateful to live in the same world as you...
: I am the worlds most luckiest man. My life knows naught but joy. If ever one sat in fortune's eye, 'tis I. My wife is clever, beautiful Bold, wise and true - Fate smiled it's broadest smil yet The day I said, "I do".
[a bird sings
: Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day. It was the nightingale and not the lark. Romeo
: It was the lark, the herald of the morn. I must be gone and live, or stay and die. Juliet
: Yond light is not daylight. I know it, I. Romeo
: Come, death, and welcome. Juliet wills it so. It is not day. Juliet
] It is. It is. Hie hence, be gone, away. It is the lark that sings so out of tune.