" I’m not convinced accidental rhyming counts as poetry, though it might pass as doggerel, I suppose. I would rather regard poetry as the interpretation of nature and the understanding of humankind written in a style that blends delicacy of words with grace of harmony and rhythm.’ ‘Really?’ ‘There are, of course, other opinions. I respect them, even if I can’t agree with them.’ ‘I thought it was all about rhyming.’ ‘No, dear,’ said Mrs Goodfellow. ‘Poetry is when emotions find the right thoughts, the thoughts find the right words, and the words find the right form.’ ‘Is it?’ I asked. ‘It can be,’ said Hobbes, ‘but I must away, because, although I’d be happy to discuss poetry until the lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, I have interviews to conduct.’ ‘Eh? What lowing herd?’ ‘He "

― Wilkie Martin , Inspector Hobbes and the Bones (Unhuman #4)