My favorite literary critic proclaims that
“Growing old, I intensify my personal quest to gain more vitality from the literary text.”
The point seems to be that whatever we want to find in art, it’s there if we look for it. The further point is that there is something beyond that desire, and beyond the recognition of that desire. To establish art beyond and despite our knowledge of our own desires is to enlarge humanity. This is not meant to be an inspiring or uplifting observation. It’s more like a confession of failure.