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.

I do think that something of the effect I have on people is to put everything on an edge where they're both infatuated with a kind of charmingness happening in the person or in the writing, and also flatly terrified by a revelation or acceptance of revelation that's almost happening, never quite totally happening.

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

I mean, every thought starts over, so every expression of a thought has to do the same. every accuracy has to be invented... I feel I am blundering in concepts too fine for me.

I never had much education in English poetry as such.

When they made love Geryon liked to touch in slow succession each of the bones of Herakles' back as it arched away from him into who knows what dark dream of its own, running both hands all the way down from the base of the neck to the end of the spine which he can cause to shiver like a root in the rain.