Properly, We Should Read For

As A Bathtub Lined With White Porcelain, When The Hot Water Gives Out Or Goes Tepid, So Is The Slow Cooling Of Our Chivalrous Passion, O My Much Praised But-not-altogether-satisfactory Lady.

Humanity Is The Rich Effluvium, It Is The Waste And The Manure And The Soil, And From It Grows The Tree Of The Arts.

What Counts Is The Cultural Level

No Man Understands A Deep Book Until He Has Seen And Lived At Least Part Of Its Contents.

The Critic Who Doesn't Make A Personal Statement, In Remeasurements He Himself Has Made, Is Merely An Unreliable Critic. He Is Not A Measurer But A Repeater Of Other Men's Results. Krino, To Pick Out For Oneself, To Choose. That's What The Word Means.