Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Pas op de plaats...

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 me thought would open and show riches,
ready to drop upon me, that, when I waked, I cried to dream again.
The tempest, William Shakespeare -Act 3, Scene 2

Mij helpt zoiets wel door wat donkere dagen heen...
Pas op de plaats.

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