The path of sound credence is through the thick forest of skepticism.
Great art is as irrational as great music. It is mad with its own loveliness.
An optimist is a fellow who believes a housefly is looking for a way to get out.
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.
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.
It is also said of me that I now and then contradict myself. Yes, I improve wonderfully as time goes on.
Drama - what literature does at night.
Whenever a man encounters a woman in a mood he doesn't understand, he wants to know if she's tired.
Criticism is the art of appraising others at one's own value.
I know many married men, I even know a few happily married men, but I don't know one who wouldn't fall down the first open coal hole running after the first pretty girl who gave him a wink.
An actor without a playwright is like a hole without a doughnut.
So long as there is one pretty girl left on the stage, the professional undertakers may hold up their burial of the theater.
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