I think he also said this: (No, not the jerk bit!)
It's easy to accuse them of being ignorant Philistines because they just don't get it and aren't full of gushing praise for your literary baby.
It's easy to think that if only the Right Sort Of People read your work then they would acknowledge its sheer brilliance and you'd become about as famous as J.K. Rowling and Steven Spielberg rolled in to one.
It's easy to conclude that nobody can possibly understand the obstacles you had to overcome in order to produce this piece of work and if its anything less than perfect it was because of that, not any inherent lack of ability.
It's easy to do what I do and simply delete unfavourable reviews or shred rejection letters into a million tiny pieces just so I can pretend they didn't ever actually happen.
It's even less easy to put the next piece of work out there and lay yourself open to more of the same...
But isn't that just what we do, every day?
ARE WE INSANE?