For life is terribly deficient in form. Its catastrophes happen in the wrong way and to the wrong people. There is a grotesque horror about its comedies, and its tragedies seem to culminate in farce.

The English public takes no interest in a work of art until it is told that the work in question is immoral.

All criticism is a form of autobiography

A writer is someone who has taught his mind to misbehave.

The burden of this world is too great for one man to bear, and the world’s sorrow too heavy for one heart to suffer.

The sin was mine; I did not understand. So now is music prisoned in her cave, Save where some ebbing desultory wave Frets with its restless whirls this meagre strand.

Everything popular is wrong.