Коллекционер

           Ican’tstandstupidpeoplelikeCaliban,withtheirgreatdeadweightofpettinessandselfishnessandmeannessofeverykind.Andthefewhavetocarryitall.Thedoctorsandtheteachersandtheartists—notthattheyhaven’ttheirtraitors,butwhathopethereis,iswiththem—withus.

           BecauseI’moneofthem.

           I’moneofthem.IfeelitandI’vetriedtoproveit.IfeltitduringmylastyearatLadymont.Therewerethefewofuswhocared,andtherewerethesillyones,thesnobbishones,thewould-bedebutantesandthedaddy’sdarlingsandthehorsophilesandthesex-cats.I’llnevergobacktoLadymont.BecauseIcouldn’tstandthatsuffocatingatmosphereofthe"done"thingandthe"right"peopleandthe"nice"behaviour.(Boadicaeawriting"inspiteofherweirdpoliticalviews"onmyreport—howdaredshe?)Iwillnotbeanoldgirlofsuchaplace.

           WhyshouldwetoleratetheirbeastlyCalibanity?Whyshouldeveryvitalandcreativeandgoodpersonbemartyredbythegreatuniversalstodgearound?

           InthissituationI’marepresentative.

           Amartyr.Imprisoned,unabletogrow.Atthemercyofthisresentment,thishatefulmillstoneenvyoftheCalibansofthisworld.Becausetheyallhateus,theyhateusforbeingdifferent,fornotbeingthem,fortheirownnotbeinglikeus.Theypersecuteus,theycrowdusout,theysendustoCoventry,theysneeratus,theyyawnatus,theyblindfoldthemselvesandstuffuptheirears.