Saturday, 12 February 2011

I wish we still spoke like this....where words were inherently beautiful.

"Be not afraid; the isle is full of noises. 
Sounds and sweet airs, they give delight and hurt not. 
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments 
Will hum about mine ears, and sometimes 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." 

— Caliban "The Tempest" Act 3 Scene 2

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