Quotes about caliban
Prospero
Do you know the type of a prosperous man
Worldly wise
Knows how to get his daughter married
To a kings son
He is Prospero
His archetype is Satan
He slyly entered into the Eden
And taught Caliban language
And what else Caliban could do with language
But to curse
Prospero made the spirit of air a slave
And tormented the spirit of earth
And finally felt that he was successful
His brother came under his spell
Happy man he was now prepared for death
A poor man indeed so unlike Shakespeare
So unlike Caliban
Did Caliban ever write tragedies and comedies
poem by Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
See quotes about tragedy, quotes about language, quotes about William Shakespeare, or quotes about slavery
Caliban upon Setebos
Caliban upon Setebos
Or, Natural Theology in the Island
"Thou thoughtest that I was altogether such a one as thyself."
(David, Psalms 50.21)
['Will sprawl, now that the heat of day is best,
Flat on his belly in the pit's much mire,
With elbows wide, fists clenched to prop his chin.
And, while he kicks both feet in the cool slush,
And feels about his spine small eft-things course,
Run in and out each arm, and make him laugh:
And while above his head a pompion-plant,
Coating the cave-top as a brow its eye,
Creeps down to touch and tickle hair and beard,
And now a flower drops with a bee inside,
And now a fruit to snap at, catch and crunch,--
He looks out o'er yon sea which sunbeams cross
And recross till they weave a spider-web
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from Dramatis Personae (1864)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Also see the following:
- quotes about turtles
- quotes about thaw
- quotes about squirrels
- quotes about purple
- quotes about old age
- quotes about winter
- quotes about sound
- quotes about screams
On Two Ministers of State
Lump says that Caliban's of gutter breed,
And Caliban says Lump's a fool indeed,
And Caliban and Lump and I are all agreed.
poem by Hilaire Belloc
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Marsh Song -- At Sunset.
Over the monstrous shambling sea,
Over the Caliban sea,
Bright Ariel-cloud, thou lingerest:
Oh wait, oh wait, in the warm red West, --
Thy Prospero I'll be.
Over the humped and fishy sea,
Over the Caliban sea
O cloud in the West, like a thought in the heart
Of pardon, loose thy wing, and start,
And do a grace for me.
Over the huge and huddling sea,
Over the Caliban sea,
Bring hither my brother Antonio, -- Man, --
My injurer: night breaks the ban;
Brother, I pardon thee.
poem by Sidney Lanier
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Caliban upon Setebos or, Natural Theology in the Island
"Thou thoughtest that I was altogether such a one as thyself."
(David, Psalms 50.21)
['Will sprawl, now that the heat of day is best,
Flat on his belly in the pit's much mire,
With elbows wide, fists clenched to prop his chin.
And, while he kicks both feet in the cool slush,
And feels about his spine small eft-things course,
Run in and out each arm, and make him laugh:
And while above his head a pompion-plant,
Coating the cave-top as a brow its eye,
Creeps down to touch and tickle hair and beard,
And now a flower drops with a bee inside,
And now a fruit to snap at, catch and crunch,--
He looks out o'er yon sea which sunbeams cross
And recross till they weave a spider-web
(Meshes of fire, some great fish breaks at times)
And talks to his own self, howe'er he please,
Touching that other, whom his dam called God.
Because to talk about Him, vexes--ha,
Could He but know! and time to vex is now,
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Hymns Of The Marshes.
I. Sunrise.
In my sleep I was fain of their fellowship, fain
Of the live-oak, the marsh, and the main.
The little green leaves would not let me alone in my sleep;
Up-breathed from the marshes, a message of range and of sweep,
Interwoven with waftures of wild sea-liberties, drifting,
Came through the lapped leaves sifting, sifting,
Came to the gates of sleep.
Then my thoughts, in the dark of the dungeon-keep
Of the Castle of Captives hid in the City of Sleep,
Upstarted, by twos and by threes assembling:
The gates of sleep fell a-trembling
Like as the lips of a lady that forth falter `Yes,'
Shaken with happiness:
The gates of sleep stood wide.
I have waked, I have come, my beloved! I might not abide:
I have come ere the dawn, O beloved, my live-oaks, to hide
[...] Read more
poem by Sidney Lanier
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Also see the following:
- quotes about beach
- quotes about green
- quotes about grass
- quotes about Olympics
- quotes about tolerance
- quotes about questions
- quotes about receiving
- quotes about news
The nineteenth century dislike of realism is the rage of Caliban seeing his own face in a glass. The nineteenth century dislike of romanticism is the rage of Caliban not seeing his own face in a glass.
Oscar Wilde in The Picture of Dorian Gray, Preface (1890)
Added by Dan Costinaş
Comment! | Vote! | Copy! | In Spanish | In Romanian
Nine Eleven
The wolf stalks in sheep’s clothing,
Surviving on the juice of complacent fodder
A sneak step forward for terrorist’s terror,
A giant step backwards for mankind.
Beware of lambs bearing gifts on donkeys,
The riddle’s answer lies with ear to ground,
Calm to listen for the one who cannot bleat.
As stealth terrier’s dive down the burrow’s’
Evil will justly fall on the perpetrator of evil,
Then the Caliban’s eyes will melt into his soul
And remain in the whirlpool of hell’
Only then will retribution be complete!
P S.
Oxford dict,
Caliban n. man of degraded bestial nature.
[Shakspeare, Tempest, & see cannibal.]
poem by Ken e Hall
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
See also quotes about terrorism, or quotes about nature
Trinculo [sees Caliban]: What have we here? A man or a fish? Dead or alive? A fish. He smells like a fish, a very ancient and fish-like smell, a kind of not-of-the-newest poor-john.
line from The Tempest, Act II, Scene 2 by William Shakespeare (1611)
Added by Dan Costinaş
Comment! | Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian
Life, A Language.
Life is a language every man must use,
Some with a wondrous faculty, and some
So blindly that they seem like Caliban
Or e'er the good and great magician took
Pity upon his impotence, and made
The discord of his reason musical.
poem by Robert Crawford
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
<< < Page 1 >