“In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond...”

“Peace? I hate the word as I hate hell and all Montagues.”

“And therefore, — since I cannot prove a lover,To entertain these fair well-spoken days, —I am determined to prove a villain,And hate the idle pleasures of these days.”

“I am too much in the sun.”

“I am a bastard, too. I love bastards! I am bastard begot, bastard instructed, bastard in mind, bastard in valor, in everything illegitimate.”

“Why, i' faith, methinks she's too low for a highpraise, too brown for a fair praise and too littlefor a great praise: only this commendation I canafford her, that were she other than she is, shewere unhandsome; and being no other but as she is, Ido not like her. (Benedick, from Much Ado About Nothing)”

“Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date: Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines, And too often is his gold complexion dimm'd: And every fair from fair sometimes declines, By chance or natures changing course untrimm'd; By thy eternal summer shall not fade, Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest; Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou growest: So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this and this gives life to thee.”