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

What is popularly called fame is nothing but an empty name and a legacy from paganism.

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. 

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

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

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

All people have the common desire to be elevated in honor, but all people have something still more elevated in themselves without knowing it.

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

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.

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

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!

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