Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part. Belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? that which we call a rose. By any other name would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, Retain that dear perfection which he owes. Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name which is no part of thee. Take all myself.
William ShakespeareAbout author
- Author's profession: Playwright, Poet
- Nationality: english
- Born: April 26, 1564
- Died: April 23, 1616
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But suppose the endlessly dead were to wake in us some emblem: they might point to the catkins hangingfrom the empty hazel trees, or direct us to the raindescending on black earth in early spring. ---And we, who always think of happinessrising, would feel the emotionthat almost baffles uswhen a happy thing falls.
Rainer Maria Rilke