Mercutio: "if Love Be Rough With You,

Your Face Is A Book, Where Men May Read Strange Matters.

I Hold The World But As The World, Gratiano; A Stage Where Every Man Must Play A Part, And Mine Is A Sad One.

Grief Hath Two Tongues; And Never Woman Yet Could Rule Them Both Without Ten Women's Wit.

The Sweetest Honey Is Loathsome In His Own Deliciousness.

To Stand Against The Deep Dread-bolted Thunder, In The Most Terrible And Nimble Stroke Of Quick, Cross Lightning.