Цитаты из книги The Tempest

Hell is empty and all the devils are here.

We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep.

Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep.

O, wonder! How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, That has such people in't!.

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.

Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes: Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell: Ding-dong Hark! now I hear them,—Ding-dong, bell.

Now I will believe that there are unicorns...

This thing of darkness I Acknowledge mine.

Thought is free.

O, brave new world that has such people in't!.

Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.

I would not wish any companion in the world but you.

Let us not burthen our remembrance with A heaviness that's gone.

You taught me language, and my profit on't / Is, I know how to curse.

I am your wife if you will marry me. If not, I'll die your maid. To be your fellow You may deny me, but I'll be your servant Whether you will or no.

I long to hear the story of your life, which must captivate the ear strangely.

At this hour Lie at my mercy all mine enemies.

I would not wish Any companion in the world but you, Nor can imagination form a shape, Besides yourself, to like of.

...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.

Watch out he's winding the watch of his wit, by and by it will strike.

Their manners are more gentle, kind, than of our generation you shall find.

How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, that has such people in it!.

Thou shalt be free As mountain winds: but then exactly do All points of my command.

This rough magic I here abjure, and, when I have required Some heavenly music, which even now I do, To work mine end upon their senses that This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, And deeper than did ever plummet sound I'll drown my book.

Now my charms are all o'erthrown, And what strength I have's mine own, - Which is most faint: now, 'tis true, I must be here confined by you... But release me from my bands With the help of your good hands: Gentle breath of yours my sails Must fill, or else my project fails, Which was to please: now I want Spirits to enforce, art to enchant; And my ending is despair, Unless I be relieved by prayer, Which pierces so, that it assaults Mercy itself, and frees all faults. As you from crimes would pardon'd be, Let your indulgence set me free.

What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts...

So. Lie there, my art.

I'll break my staff, bury it certain fathoms in the earth, and deeper than did ever plummet sound, I'll drown my book!.

You cram these words into mine ears against The stomach of my sense.

Twas a clever quibble. Here, a garment for it.

His forward voice now is to speak well of his friend. His backward voice is to utter foul speeches and to detract.

What seest thou else In the dark backward and abysm of time?.

The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness And time to speak it in. You rub the sore When you should bring the plaster.

The fringed curtains of thine eye advance, And say what thou seest yond.

Why what a fool was I to this drunken monster for a God. - Caliban.

And as the morning steals upon the night, melting the darkness, so their rising senses begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle their clearer reason.