“Think about it. He drinks poison. What kind of man drinks poison? She is the one who stabs herself with his dagger. The manly way.”

“What kind of woman agrees to a blind date at the top of a tower? And what kind of man spends his nights with a helmet on his head, visor closed, communicated with people via tennis balls?”

“Romeo was cute …” “Cute?” Alessandro rolled his eyes. “What kind of man is cute?” “… and an excellent dancer …” “Romeo had feet of lead! He said so himself!” “… but most importantly,” I concluded, “he had nice hands!”

“It is a great honor to meet you, young man. Now, here is someone very special that I want you to meet.” And she pulled one of the little girls into her lap, and said, as if she was presenting a wonder of the world, “This is Giulietta.” Romeo stuck the biscotto in his pocket. “I don’t think so,” he said. “She’s wearing a diaper.”

“In fact, I shall drink several, and perchance the wine will send me straight to Paradise that I may meet her in person and …” Friar Lorenzo sprung forward and hissed, for no apparent reason, “Before it throws you from grace, Messer Romeo, bridle your tongue!” The young man grinned, “… pay my respects.”

“After the dress rehearsal that afternoon, someone had misplaced the vial of poison, and for lack of better, Romeo would have to commit suicide by eating Tic Tacs.”

“There is lust and then there is love. They are related, but still very different things. To indulge in one requires little but honeyed speech and a change of clothes; to obtain the other, by contrast, a man must give up his rib. In return, his woman will undo the sin of Eve, and bring him back into Paradise.”