«Romeo and Juliet» adlı sesli kitaptan alıntılar, sayfa 35

we were born to die

with his own tears made drunk

I see that madmen have no ears.

Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,

Brags of his substance, not of ornament:

They are but beggars that can count their worth;

But my true love is grown to such excess

I cannot sum up of half my wealth.

Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.

Alas poor Romeo! he is already dead;

shot through the ear with a love song.

they stumble that run fast

Women may fall, when there's no strength in men.

Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied;

And vice sometimes by action dignified.

Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from their books,

But love from love, toward school with heavy looks.