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.

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.

Reality is always the foe of famous names.

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

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