Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises,
Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears; and sometime voices,
That, if I then had waked after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open, and show riches
Ready to drop upon me; that, when I waked,
I cried to dream again.
We can rape, but we can also sing.
A.R. BraunmullerTags: caliban the-tempest
As wicked dew as e'er my mother brushed
With raven's feather from unwholesom fen
Drop on you both! A southwest blow on ye
And blister you all o'er!
Tags: caliban the-tempest shakespearean-insult
It's wearying, like Caliban buttonholing you in hell and telling you the struggle he's having getting along with himself.
Derek RaymondTags: hell struggle caliban weary existential-horror
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