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

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

Avoid the talk of men. For talk is mischievous, light, and easily raised, but hard to bear and difficult to be rid of. Talk never wholly dies away when many people voice her: even talk is in some ways divine.

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

Reality is always the foe of famous names.

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.

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.

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

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

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

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