Tuesday, June 30, 2009
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.
- The Tempest, 3.2.148-156
(ps. The photo dates back from our wedding trip. Despite never having visited Hawaii, we found it perfectly plausible to drag ourselves and our immediate family over there to get married. It was wonderful. I believe I took this shot the first morning after we arrived.)