The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, are of imagination all compact.
Why what a fool was I to this drunken monster for a God. - Caliban
My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, or else my heart concealing it will break.
Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I must speak.
Having my freedom, boast of nothing else.
Shall remain! Hear you this Triton of the minnows? Mark you His absolute 'shall'?