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“Vowels were something else. He didn't like them and they didn't like him. There were only five of them, but they seemed to be everywhere. Why, you could go through twenty words without bumping into some of the shyer consonants, but it seemed as if you couldn't tiptoe past a syllable without waking up a vowel. Consonants, you know pretty much where you stood, but you could never trust a vowel.”
― Jerry Spinelli, Maniac Magee

“Cosmos is God, who whispered the syllable of life.”
― Dejan Stojanovic, The Sun Watches the Sun

“A poem I may never complete / A prosody that may never have rhythm / A rhyming of broken syllables / A Gazal without her mention / Her incomplete gaze; in spite of my presence / My youth without her love is tainted fruit / The fruit that if eaten is committing sin / My soul is imprisoned in the custody of evil orchard / The orchard of despair instead.”
― Mirza Sharafat Hussain Beigh