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

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

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

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

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

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

I am sick and tired of publicity. I want no more of it. It puts me in a bad light. I just want to be forgotten.

Being a star has made it possible for me to get insulted in places where the average Negro could never hope to go and get insulted.

Fame is but the empty noise of madmen.

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.

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

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.