Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!
	You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
	Till you have drenched our steeples, drowned the cocks!
	You sulphrous and thought-executing fires,
	Vaunt-couriers of oak-cleaving thunderbolts,
	Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder,
	Strike flat the thick rotundity of the world,
	Crack Nature's molds, all germens spill at once,
	That make ingrateful man! - King Lear, Act III, Scene II

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