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

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.

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.

Famous, adj. Conspicuously miserable.

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

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.

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.

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

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

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

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.

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.