Quotes About Love

Romeo: Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swearThat tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops—Juliet: O! swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon,That monthly changes in her circled orb,Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.

I would have thee gone;And yet no further than a wanton's bird,Who lets it hop a little from her hand,Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,And with a silk thread plucks it back again,So loving-jealous of his liberty.

These violent delights have violent ends.

Make me a willow cabin at your gate,And call upon my soul within the house.

A pair of star-cross'd lovers.

If music be the food of love, play on;Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,The appetite may sicken, and so die.That strain again! it had a dying fall:O! it came o'er my ear like the sweet soundThat breathes upon a bank of violets,Stealing and giving odor!

Absence from those we love is self from self - a deadly banishment.

Love that comes too late,Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried.

Bassanio: Do all men kill the things they do not love?Shylock: Hates any man the thing he would not kill?

There have been many great men that have flattered the people who ne'er loved them.

O mistress mine! where are you roaming?

Come unto these yellow sands,And then take hands:Curtsied when you have, and kiss'd—The wild waves whist,—Foot it featly here and there.

Alas, how love can trifle with itself!

If thou and nature can so gently part,The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch,Which hurts, and is desir'd.

If the rascal have not given me medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged.

There's something tells me, but it is not love,I would not lose you; and you know yourself,Hate counsels not in such a quality.

All lovers swear more performance than they are able, and yet reserve an ability that they never perform; vowing more than the perfection of ten and discharging less than the tenth part of one.

Who woo'd in haste and means to wed at leisure.

Julia: They do not love that do not show their love.Lucetta: O! they love least that let men know their love.

One fair daughter and no more,The which he loved passing well.

This is a way to kill a wife with kindness.

For stony limits cannot hold love out.

By heaven, I do love, and it hath taught me to rime, and to be melancholy.

William Shakespeare