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.
Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart.
He that is giddy thinks the world turns round.
Me when me im when im when im i m im im
-William Shakspere, 2007
For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.
Four days will quickly steep themselves in nights; Four nights will quickly dream away the time.