No man can think clearly when his fists are clenched.

Great art is as irrational as great music. It is mad with its own loveliness.

Criticism is the windows and chandeliers of art: it illuminates the enveloping darkness in which art might otherwise rest only vaguely discernible, and perhaps altogether unseen.

To speak of morals in art is to speak of legislature in sex. Art is the sex of the imagination.

Criticism is the art of appraising others at one's own value.