[P]oetry… folds its wings at the rough contact of reality… it feels in one sense much more, and in another much less, than the soul engaged with reality… – Alexandre Vinet (1797–1847)
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The musician is perhaps the most modest of animals, but he is also the proudest. It is he who invented the sublime art of ruining poetry. – Erik Satie
Death be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so. For, those, whom thou thinkst thou dost overthrow. Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me. – John Donne