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Friar Lawrence: These violent delights have violent ends,And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,Which, as they kiss, consume: the sweetest honey
Juliet:What's in a name? That which we call a roseBy any other name would smell as sweet;
Juliet:Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow,That I shall say good night till it be morrow.
Romeo:Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health!Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!
Tybalt:What, drawn, and talk of peace? I hate the word, As I hate hell, all Montagues and thee.
Tybalt:Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe, A villain that is hither come in spite,To scorn at our solemnity this night.
Prologue:Doth with their death bury their parents' strife.
Friar Lawrence
Juliet
Tybalt
Romeo
Other
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