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.

What passes for woman's intuition is more often intrinsically nothing more than man's transparency.

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

Common sense, in so far as it exists, is all for the bourgeoisie. Nonsense is the privilege of the aristocracy. The worries of the world are for the common people.

The Russian dramatist is one who, walking through a cemetery, does not see the flowers on the graves. The American dramatist . . . Does not see the graves under the flowers.

Patriotism is often an arbitrary veneration of real estate above principles.

Love is an emotion experienced by the many and enjoyed by the few.