Dost thou love picking meat, or wouldst thou see
A man i'the clouds and have him speak to thee?

--John Bunyan, Pilgrim's Progress.

 
There are two veils of language, hid beneath
Whose sheltering folds, we dare to be ourselves;
And not that other self which nods and smiles
And babbles in our name; the one is Prayer,
Lending its licensed freedom to the tongue
That tells our sorrows and our sins to heaven;
The other, Verse, that throws its spangled web
Around our naked speech and makes it bold.

--Oliver Wendell Holmes, Wind-Clouds and Star-Drifts.