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

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

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

Reality is always the foe of famous names.

If fame is only to come after death, I am in no hurry for it.

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

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.

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

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.

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

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!

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

We all have a contract with the public—in us they see themselves, or what they would like to be.