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.

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

Reality is always the foe of famous names.

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

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

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