A Poet Is A Man Who Manages,

I See At Last That All The Knowledge I Wrung From The Darkness - That Darkness Flung Me - Is Worthless As Ignorance: Nothing Comes From Nothing The Darkness From The Darkness. Pain Comes From The Darkness And We Call It Wisdom. It Is Pain.

More And More People Think Of The Critic As An Indispensable Middle Man Between Writer And Reader, And Would No More Read A Book Alone, If They Could Help It, Than Have A Baby Alone.

Goethe Said, "the Author Whom A Lexicon Can Keep Up With Is Worth Nothing"; Somerset Maugham Says That The Finest Compliment He Ever Received Was A Letter In Which One Of His Readers Said: "i Read Your Novel Without Having To Look Up A Single Word In The Dictionary." These Writers, Plainly, Lived In Different Worlds.

Kenneth Burke Calls Form The Satisfaction Of An Expectation; The Man Who Loved Children Is Full Of Such Satisfactions, But It Has A Good Deal Of The Deliberate Disappointment Of An Expectation That Is Also Form.

The Usual Criticism Of A Novel About An Artist Is That, No Matter How Real He Is As A Man, He Is Not Real To Us As An Artist, Since We Have To Take On Trust The Works Of Art He Produces.