I have never believed that the critic is the rival of the poet, but I do believe that criticism is a genre of literature or it does not exist.
To understand is nothing, but to be understood-that is the problem and the source of anguish. The soul throbs and would have the other know-but can not and feels isolated. Then come gestures, words, awkward explanations and material symbols for imponderable outbursts of feeling-and the soul despairs.