Prose can paint evening and moonlight, but poets are needed to sing the dawn.

That is because prose is equal to melancholy stuff.

Gladness requires the finer language.
Otherwise we have it coarse--anything but a reproduction.

You politicians despise the little distinctions "twixt tweedledum and tweedledee," I fancy.' Of the poetic sort, Dacier's uncle certainly did.

For himself he confessed to not having thought much on them.
'But how divine is utterance!' she said.