Fame (n.) is when the gratitude of many to one throws away all shame.
Fame (n.) in its transfigured form is more than the tastiest morsel of egoism: it is the belief in the solidarity of greatness across all ages, a protest against the transitoriness of things.
Fame (n.) often comes from being ahead of one's time, which means falling into the arms of a view destined to become trivial a quarter-of-an-hour earlier than everyone else — and such fame is noisier than true greatness.
Fame (n.) disappoints up close — we expect from an hour what only a lifetime could show, and the famous man makes no effort to win our recognition anew; he is too indolent, we too eager.
Fame (n.) costs half our virtue: the gods take it when they take our incognito.
Fame (n.) is what we behold when the gratitude of many to one throws away all shame.
Fame (n.) demands the difficult art of leaving at the right time — stop letting yourself be eaten when you taste best.
Fame (n.) means they all talk about me, but no one thinks — about me.