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!

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

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

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.

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

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

A woman’s greatest glory is to be little talked about by men, whether for good or ill.

They are trying to make me into a fixed star. I am an irregular planet.

Reality is always the foe of famous names.

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

I would much rather have men ask why I have no statue than why I have one.

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

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