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.

Reality is always the foe of famous names.

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

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

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

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

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.

Fame is but the empty noise of madmen.

Possessions, outward success, publicity, luxury—to me these have always been contemptible. I believe that a simple and unassuming manner of life is best for everyone, best both for the body and the mind.

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

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’m afraid of losing my obscurity. Genuineness only thrives in the dark. Like celery.

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