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.

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

The aim of language...is to communicate...to impart to others the results one has obtained...As I talk, I reveal the situation...I reveal it to myself and to others in order to change it.

The pleasure of criticizing robs us of the pleasure of being moved by some very fine things

I wondered vaguely if this was when it would end, whether I would pull up tonight's darkness like a quilt and be dead and at peace evermore.

War is a way of shattering to pieces... materials which might otherwise be used to make the masses too comfortable and... too intelligent.