A Drama Critic Is A Man Who

In The Middle Ages People Believed That The Earth Was Flat, For Which They Had At Least The Evidence Of Their Senses: We Believe It To Be Round, Not Because As Many As 1 Percent Of Us Could Give Physical Reasons For So Quaint A Belief, But Because Modern Science Has Convinced Us That Nothing That Is Obvious Is True, And That Everything That Is Magical, Improbable, Extraordinary, Gigantic, Microscopic, Heartless, Or Outrageous Is Scientific.

It Is Monstrous That Custom Should Force Us To Display Our Faces Ostentatiously, However Worn And Wrinkled And Mean They May Be, Whilst Carefully Concealing All Our Other Parts, However Shapely And Well Preserved.

Geniuses Are Horrid, Intolerant, Easily Offended, Sleeplessly Self-conscious Men, Who Expect Their Wives To Be Angels With No Further Business In Life Than To Pet And Worship Their Husbands. Even At The Best They Are Not Comfortable Men To Live With; And A Perfect Husband Is One Who Is Perfectly Comfortable To Live With.

If You Would Stick To The Concrete, And Put Your Discoveries In The Form Of Entertaining Anecdotes About Your Adventures With Women, Your Conversation Would Be Easier To Follow.

It Was From Handel That I Learned That Style Consists In Force Of Assertion.