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“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.”
― William Shakespeare, The Tempest

“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, The Picture of Dorian Gray

“Prospero, you are the master of illusion.
Lying is your trademark.
And you have lied so much to me
(Lied about the world, lied about me)
That you have ended by imposing on me
An image of myself.
Underdeveloped, you brand me, inferior,
That s the way you have forced me to see myself
I detest that image! What’s more, it’s a lie!
But now I know you, you old cancer,
And I know myself as well.”
― Aimé Césaire, A Tempest: Based on Shakespeare's 'The Tempest;' Adaptation for a Black Theatre

“As wicked dew as e'er my mother brushed
With raven's feather from unwholesom fen
Drop on you both! A southwest blow on ye
And blister you all o'er!”
― William Shakespeare, The Tempest

“We can rape, but we can also sing.”
― A.R. Braunmuller

“It's wearying, like Caliban buttonholing you in hell and telling you the struggle he's having getting along with himself.”
― Derek Raymond, The Crust on its Uppers

“A caça às bruxas nunca terminou, mas as mulheres também nunca deixaram de resistir.”
― Silvia Federici, Caliban and the Witch: Women, the Body and Primitive Accumulation