"Though lust do masque in ne'er so strange disguise she's oft found witty, but is never wise."

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A poem needs disguises. It needs secrets. It thrives on the tension between what is said and not said; it prefers the oblique, the implied, the ironic, the suggestive; when it speaks, it wants you to lean forward a little to overhear; it wants you to understand things only years later.

— J. D. McClatchy