No matter what disaster occurred She stood in desperate music wound, Wound, wound, and she made in her triumph Where the bales and the baskets lay No common intelligible sound But sang, 'O sea-starved, hungry sea.'

You know what they say about you - a witch, a sorceress, a snake.

Men are fickle, fearful things. They mislike when a woman's laugh can make the earth shiver and make rocks fall headlong into the sea. And so you laugh because you have everything; yet press in and on, ever desirous of more.

Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes: Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange.