The press, the pulpit, and the stage,
Conspire to censure and expose our age.

The press, the pulpit, and the stage,
Conspire to censure and expose our age.

Reviewers are forever telling authors they can't understand them.
The author might often reply: Is that my fault?

Reviewers are forever telling authors they can't understand them.
The author might often reply: Is that my fault?

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where read more

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.

He has the right to criticize who has the heart to help.

He has the right to criticize who has the heart to help.

I criticize by creation--not by finding fault.

I criticize by creation--not by finding fault.

But, spite of all the criticising elves,
Those who would make us feel, must feel themselves.

But, spite of all the criticising elves,
Those who would make us feel, must feel themselves.

Some people are always critical of vague statements. I tend rather to be critical of precise statements; they are the read more

Some people are always critical of vague statements. I tend rather to be critical of precise statements; they are the only ones which can correctly be labeled "wrong.".

Even the lion has to defend himself against flies.

Even the lion has to defend himself against flies.

Critics? Don't talk to me of critics! You think some jackanapes journalist, his soul eaten away by the maggots of read more

Critics? Don't talk to me of critics! You think some jackanapes journalist, his soul eaten away by the maggots of jealousy and failure, has anything worthwhile to say of art? I don't.