Ромео и Джульетта / Romeo and Juliet

Give thy thoughts no tongue.

How is it that the clouds still hang on you?

It puzzles the will.

This is the very ecstasy of love, whose violent property ordoes itself and leads the will to desperate undertakings.

A knavish speech sleeps in a fool's ear.

More matter with less art.

therein lies the rub

We are oft to blame in this, -
'tis too much proved, - that with devotion's visage,
and pios action we do sugar o'er
the devil himself.

I must, like a whore, unpack my heart with words.

A little more than kin, a little less than kind.