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.

When my time on earth is gone, and my activities here are passed, I want they bury me upside down, read more

When my time on earth is gone, and my activities here are passed, I want they bury me upside down, and my critics can kiss my ass!

Blame is safer than praise.

Blame is safer than praise.

Though by whim, envy, or resentment led,
They damn those authors whom they never read.

Though by whim, envy, or resentment led,
They damn those authors whom they never read.

When I read the rules of criticism, I immediately inquire after
the works of the author who has written read more

When I read the rules of criticism, I immediately inquire after
the works of the author who has written them, and by that means
discover what it is he likes in a composition.

Flatter me, and I may not believe you. Criticize me, and I may not like you. Ignore me, and I read more

Flatter me, and I may not believe you. Criticize me, and I may not like you. Ignore me, and I may not forgive you. Encourage me, and I will not forget you. Love me and I may be forced to love you.

They who write ill, and they who ne'er durst write,
Turn critics out of mere revenge and spite.

They who write ill, and they who ne'er durst write,
Turn critics out of mere revenge and spite.

There are come Critics so with Spleen diseased,
They scarcely come inclining to be pleased:
And sure read more

There are come Critics so with Spleen diseased,
They scarcely come inclining to be pleased:
And sure he must have more than mortal Skill,
Who please one against his Will.