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ROMEO:
Here's much to do with hate, but more with love. Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate! O any thing, of nothing first create! O heavy lightness! serious vanity! Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms! Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health! Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is! This love feel I, that feel no love in this. Dost thou not laugh?
JULIET:
Not proud you have, but thankful that you have. Proud can I never be of what I hate, but thankful even for hate that is meant love.
Act 3, scene 5
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