That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet
Monday, February 9th, 2009
Romeo: (Aside) Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?
Juliet: ‘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…
