You remember too much," my mother said to me recently. "Why hold onto all that?" And I said, "where can I put it down?

A page with a poem on it is less attractive than a page with a poem on it and some tea stains.

Then a miracle occurred in the form of a plate of sandwiches. Geryon took three and buried his mouth in a delicious block of white bread filled with tomatoes and butter and salt. He thought about how delicious it was, how he liked slippery foods, how slipperiness can be of different kinds. I am a philosopher of sandwiches, he decided. Things good on the inside.

He was trying to fit this Herakles onto the one he knew.

I don't read reviews and I don't know what to do with opinions, so I just lose them. They take up space, they become a process of manufacturing a persona, which I want to avoid.

To live past the end of your myth is a perilous thing.

Poetry - poiesis means a thing made.