I will make thee think thy swan a crow.

Go wisely and slowly. Those who rush stumble and fall.

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

Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs.

My only love sprung from my only hate.

There's an old saying that applies to me: you can't lose a game if you don't play the game. (Act 1, scene 4)

Do not swear by the moon, for she changes constantly. then your love would also change.

These violent delights have violent ends.

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

Parting is such sweet sorrow

Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.

We knock upon silence for an answering music.

In the end… he would choose Campisi.In the end… she would choose Abandonato.In the end… there would be bloodshed.

Each culture has its own form of staged combat, evolved from its particular method of street fighting and cleaned up for presentation as a spectacle, e.g. savate, Cornish wrestling, karate, kung-fu.

A long time ago, in a country not so far away, I was eight years old, doing my best Darth Vader imitation.

Hitler was never a socialist.

Where there is no desire, there will be no industry.

Her face was brilliant and glowing; but this glow was not one of brightness; it suggested the fearful glow of a conflagration in the midst of a dark night.

The saving of our world from pending doom will come, not through the complacent adjustment of the conforming majority, but through the creative maladjustment of a nonconforming minority.

If this is death, it is easier than life.

For all we take we must pay, but the price is cruel high.