The world looks with some awe upon a man who appears unconcernedly indifferent to home, money, comfort, rank, or even power and fame. The world feels not without a certain apprehension, that here is some one outside its jurisdiction; someone before whom its allurements may be spread in vain; some one strangely enfranchised, untamed, untrammelled by convention, moving independent of the ordinary currents of human action.

Let the dead have the immortality of fame, but the living the immortality of love.

Spurious fame spreads from tongue to tongue like the fog of the early dawn before the sun rises.

If one has a good disposition, what other virtue is needed? If a man has fame, what is the value of other ornamentation?

There's a long way to fall when you pretend that you're so far away from the earth, far away from reality, floating in a bubble that's protected by fame or success. It's scary, and it's the thing I fear the most: to be swallowed up by that bubble. It can be poison to you, fame.

What wretched doings come from the ardor of fame; the love of truth alone would never make one man attack another bitterly.