The one I love is the son of the one I hate!
-Juliet p. 75

“Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting That would not let me sleep.”

“Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate!O any thing, of nothing first create!O…”

“As full of spirit as the month of May, and as gorgeous as the sun in Midsummer.”

“So, good night unto you all.Give me your hands, if we be friends,and Robin shal…”