"It struck me passing through Cairo that the Sphinx has a look of pathetic and devoted public spirit (like a good deal of Egyptian work) which makes the popular idea of her as a sinister mystery seem off the mark." --William Empson

"What makes it difficult for a poet not to tell lies is that, in poetry, all facts and all beliefs cease to be true or false and become interesting possibilities. ...a poet is constantly tempted to make use of an idea or a belief, not because he believes it to be true..." --Auden
[I want to tie this in to my previous remarks about pseudonyms. There are certain of my works that really require to be read as if written by a devotee of the Cthulhu Mythos, or by a believer in the Theory of Cosmic Ice, or in the idea that we are actually living on the inside of a concave bubble in a universe of infinite solid stone... Otherwise, they are like those weird puffed-up Indian pastries that the restaurants only make on special occasions: you cut into it, to be surprised that there's nothing inside--but the meat & veggies have been ground up & baked into the hollow shell of bread.]

"When one begins writing poetry one tends to use a language that convinces one that it is truly poetry that is being written. ...Lovers contemplate the moon...'What is life?' is the question on everyone's lips, and the answer usually involves the soul's sadness and the remoteness of God." --Robin Skelton

One week i had a young Vietnamese woman bring in the draft of an essay, which she had unwisely started on the subject of Crab Soup. I helped her correct the single paragraph she had written, & suggested all the things connected with Crab Soup she hadn't considered: who makes the best? when do you eat it? what do the crabs look like? ktp ktp. But i wasn't hopeful.
  The following week she brought me a wonderful three pages which actually ended up being quite poignant: in her hometown, she had gone with her father into a mangrove swamp to catch crabs, the cooking took three hours, and required so many ingredients that they only ate Crab Soup on special occasions; & were strictly limited to two bowls each (she wished her brothers would get sick, so she could eat their share, but the thought made her feel guilty). Nowadays her mother uses ready-made ingredients so it takes less time & i suppose the family has more money, so they have it everyday--& secretly the kids are tired of what had once been their favorite food.
  America is a poem.