Edmund Wilson (May 8, 1895 – June 12, 1972) was an American writer, literary and social critic, and man of letters. Read full biography of Edmund Wilson →
No two persons ever read the same book.
If I could only remember that the days were, not bricks to be laid row on row, to be built into a solid house, where one might dwell in safety and... →
The human imagination has already come to conceive the possibility of recreating human society.
Marxism is the opium of the intellectuals.
All Hollywood corrupts; and absolute Hollywood corrupts absolutely.
His style has the desperate jauntiness of an orchestra fiddling away for dear life on a sinking ship.
Real genius of moral insight is a motor which will start any engine.
There is nothing more demoralizing than a small but adequate income.
The product of the scientific imagination is a new vision of relations - like that of artistic imagination.
I am not quite a poet but I am something of the kind.