Famous quotes from Romeo and Juliet

What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden. Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be ere one can say ‘It lightens.’

O, Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name.

Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow.

For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.

These violent delights have violent ends.

My bounty is as boundless as the sea.

Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast.

See how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O, that I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek!

Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs.

And, when I shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars.

True love never did run smooth.

O happy dagger! This is thy sheath; there rust, and let me die.

She’s my heart. I do not entertain ‘the sun’, for thou art far more radiant.

Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow.

Unhappy fortune! By my brotherhood, the letter was not nice but full of charge of dear import.

For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague.

A plague o’ both your houses!

Love goes toward love as schoolboys from their books.

These violent delights have violent ends.

That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

Under love’s heavy burden, do I sink.

A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow.

Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs.

What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

With love’s light wings did I o’erperch these walls.

In fair Verona, where we lay our scene.

Two households, both alike in dignity.

The course of true love never did run smooth.

For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.

O, swear not by the moon, the fickle moon, the inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circle orb, lest that thy love prove likewise variable.

These happy masks that kiss fair ladies’ brows, being black puts us in mind they hide the fair.

See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!

Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-browed night.

O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?

Deny thy father and refuse thy name.

What’s Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man.

My only love sprung from my only hate!

But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?

Oh, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!

I am too sore enpierced with his shaft to soar with his light feathers, and so bound.

My love, my wife, death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath, hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.

My love for thee is so deep that the abyss rejects its invitation.

Love is the most powerful spell, but it is not safe to use it lightly.

Ask for me tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave man.

O, happy dagger! This is thy sheath; there rust, and let me die.

O heavy lightness, serious vanity, misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms!

My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.

O, Romeo, Romeo, brave Juliet will always love thee, though fate may decree otherwise.