FC: Rome and Juliet Scrapbook
1: Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn. | He that hath the steerage of my course, direct my sail! | Not mad, but bound more than a mad man is. Shut up in prison, kept without my food, whipped and tormented. | O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied? | Did my heart love 'til now? Forswear its sight. For I never saw true beauty 'til this night.
2: How art thou out of breath when thou hast breath to say to me that thou art out of breath? Is the news good or bad, answer to that. | What satisfaction canst thou have tonight? | I gave thee mine before thou didst request it! | My only love sprung from my only hate! Too early seen unknown, and known too late! Prodigious birth of love it is to me that I must love a loathed enemy. | Romeo, what's here? Poison? Drunk all, and left no friendly drop to help me after?
3: Elizabeth Norwood