[P]oetry, that pearl of intelligence and life, reflects on our brow some pale rays of the glory that has faded away from it. – Alexandre Vinet (1797–1847)

[Man] asks from prose, only under a more obscure and indefinite form, what he expects from poetry; and indeed, where is the actual boundary between poetry and prose? and how can one help owning that prose is but poetry gradually but never entirely extinguished or calmed down? – Alexandre Vinet (1797–1847)

I still read Donne, particularly his love poems. – Carol Ann Duffy