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

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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

Fame is but the empty noise of madmen.

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.

Famous, adj. Conspicuously miserable.

Reality is always the foe of famous names.

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