Possessions, outward success, publicity, luxury—to me these have always been contemptible. I believe that a simple and unassuming manner of life is best for everyone, best both for the body and the mind.

He who treats another human being as divine thereby assigns to himself the relative status of a child or an animal.

I won’t be happy till I’m as famous as God.

How sweet it is to have people point and say, “There he is.”

Now there is fame! Of all—hunger, misery, the incomprehension by the public—fame is by far the worst. It is the castigation by God of the artist. It is sad. It is true.

Avoid the talk of men. For talk is mischievous, light, and easily raised, but hard to bear and difficult to be rid of. Talk never wholly dies away when many people voice her: even talk is in some ways divine.

Fame will go by and, so long, I’ve had you, fame. If it goes by, I’ve always known it was fickle. So at least it’s something I experienced, but that’s not where I live.

Wood burns because it has the proper stuff in it, and a man becomes famous because he has the proper stuff in him.

I’m afraid of losing my obscurity. Genuineness only thrives in the dark. Like celery.

There is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.

Fame is no sanctuary from the passing of youth. Suicide is much easier and more acceptable in Hollywood than growing old gracefully.

When I do a show, the whole show revolves around me, and if I don’t show up, they can just forget it.

Famous, adj. Conspicuously miserable.