Men are generally more pleased with a widespread than with a great reputation.

And what will history say of me a thousand years hence?

Worldly fame is but a breath of wind that blows now this way, now that, and changes names as it changes in direction.

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

Happy is the man who hath never known what it is to taste of fame—to have it is a purgatory, to want it is a hell!

Most authors seek fame, but I seek for justice—a holier impulse than ever entered into the ambitious struggles of the votaries of that fickle, flirting goddess.

There lurks in every human heart a desire of distinction which inclines every man first to hope and then to believe that nature has given him something peculiar to himself. 

What a heavy burden is a name that has become too famous.

Famous, adj. Conspicuously miserable.

Those who know the joys and miseries of celebrities when they have passed the age of forty know how to defend themselves.

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.

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

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