Mówisz, że kochasz deszcz, a rozkładasz parasolkę, gdy zaczyna padać.Mówisz, że kochasz słońce, a chowasz się w cieniu, gdy zaczyna grzać.Mówisz, że kochasz wiatr, a zamykasz okno, gdy zaczyna wiać.Właśnie dlatego boję się, gdy mówisz, że kochasz mnie.
BENVOLIO: It was. What sadness lengthensRomeo’s hours?ROMEO: Not having that, which, having, makesthem short.BENVOLIO: In love?ROMEO: Out—BENVOLIO: Of love?ROMEO: Out of her favour, where I am in love.BENVOLIO: Alas, that love, so gentle in his view,Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!ROMEO: Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still,Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will!
Polonius: What is the matter, my lord?Hamlet: Between who?Polonius: I mean, the matter that you read, my lord.Hamlet: Slanders, sir; for the satirical rogue says here that old men have grey beards, that their faces are wrinkled, their eyes purging thick amber and plum-tree gum, and that they have a plentiful lack of wit, together with most weak hams; all which, sir, though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet I hold it not honesty to have it thus set down, for yourself, sir, shall grow old as I am, if like a crab you could go backward.Polonius: [Aside] Though this be madness, yet there is method in'tHamlet Act 2, scene 2, 193–206
MERCUTIO Nay, I'll conjure too. Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover! Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh: Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied; Cry but 'Ay me!' pronounce but 'love' and 'dove;' Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word, One nick-name for her purblind son and heir, Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim, When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid! He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not; The ape is dead, and I must conjure him. I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes, By her high forehead and her scarlet lip, By her fine foot, straight leg and quivering thigh And the demesnes that there adjacent lie, That in thy likeness thou appear to us!