When a man says he sees nothing in a book, he very often means that he does not see himself in it: which, if it is not a comedy or a satire, is likely enough.

What the mulberry leaf is to the silkworm, the author's book, treatise, essay, poem, is to the critical larvae that feed upon it. It furnishes them with food and clothing.

The slanders of the pen pierce to the heart; they rankle longest in the noblest spirits; they dwell ever present in the mind and render it morbidly sensitive to the most trifling collision.

He who first praises a book becomingly is next in merit to the author.

Confusion of reporting with art criticism is materially responsible for the unholy division the young century set up between great art and the concert industry.

Nature fits all her children with something to do, He who would write and can't write can surely review.

A good critic is the sorcerer who makes some hidden spring gush forth unexpectedly under our feet.

The critic, to interpret his artist, even to understand his artist, must be able to get into the mind of his artist; he must feel and comprehend the vast pressure of the creative passion.

There is no fate more distressing for an artist than to have to show himself off before fools, to see his work exposed to the criticism of the vulgar and ignorant.

There is no reward so delightful, no pleasure so exquisite, as having one's work known and acclaimed by those whose applause confers honour.