Balance is compromise. Of the muscles.
First publication is a pure, carnal leap into that dark which one dreams is life.
I always say that one's poetry is a solace to oneself and a nuisance to one's friends.
Every art is a church without communicants, presided over by a parish of the respectable. An artist is born kneeling; he fights to stand. A critic, by nature of the judgment seat, is born sitting.
'Ms.' is a syllable which sounds like a bumble bee is breaking wind.
I don't suppose there's really any critic except posterity.