Quotes About Fame

Every time I'm recognized in public, I'm super grateful and appreciative, but I also get hot and nervous.

I don't like the word 'rock star' or 'super star.' I am a guitar player, a songwriter who got lucky because I stayed at it and didn't give up, long enough that people noticed me.

I think a lot of people think it's easy to just post stuff. They think it's the easy way to fame nowadays, but it's been hard. You have to film the video, which takes forever because I'm super picky about all my takes and stuff. Then you have to edit it and upload it, and doing that three times a week is very, very difficult.

Nobody remembers that you lost a Super Bowl, they remember who won a Super Bowl.

It's sad that Walter Payton was not known as the greatest running back to play the game until they won the Super Bowl.

I want people to know me for my singing. I've never been searching for a label of being a fashion plate or a top model. That's a thing that's very short-lived, and it's dealing with a superficial level of this which doesn't really appeal to me.

Hollywood is the most superficial thing you could possibly be a part of and if I weren't attractive I wouldn't be working at all.

Being in the spotlight, you know, you tend to kind of forget who you are. And being an artist... it could be a very superficial job. It could be very pretentious as well.

Fame is finally only the sum total of all the misunderstanding that can gather around a new name.

Fame is nothing but the sum of all the misunderstandings that cluster around a new name…Wherever a human achievement becomes truly great, it seeks to hide its face in the lap of general, nameless greatness.

But sing, when you must, of great lovers: their fame has a long way to go before it's really immortal. Those you almost envied, the unrequited, whom you found more loving than the gratified, the content— begin again and again the praise you can never fully express.

For fame is ultimately but the summary of all misunderstandings that crystallize about a new name

For I did not yet understand fame, this public demolition of something still forming, onto whose construction site the crowd breaks in, scattering its stones.

You, most lonely, most remote: how they have appropriated you for your fame. How long ago was it that they were bitterly against you, and now they embrace you as one of their own. And they carry your words around with them in the cages of their darkness and trot them out in public squares and poke them a little from within their sense of security. All your terrible beasts of prey.

Fame is proof that people are gullible.

I trust a good deal to common fame, as we all must. If a man has good corn, or wood, or boards, or pigs, to sell, or can make better chairs or knives, crucibles or church organs, than anybody else, you will find a broad hard-beaten road to his house, though it be in the woods.

What a signal convenience is fame. Do we read all authors to grope our way to the best? No, but the world selects for us the best, and we select from these our best.

But the man is, as it were, clapped into jail by his consciousness. As soon as he has once acted or spoken with eclat, he is a committed person, watched by the sympathy or the hatred of hundreds, whose affections must now enter into his account.

In the East, fames are won. In the west, deeds are done.

Emerson's own best insight into fame is in his essay on Character. The most dismaying aspect of fame from the point of view of its possessor is not just that fame is generally disproportionate to actual achievement, but that the fame that we first assume to be a reward for work well done becomes instead an impossible promise of about future work. Fame casts an anticipatory chill over current efforts because it awakens expectations that can never fully be met.

It is a lie to write in such way as to be rewarded by fame offered you by some snobbish quasi-literary groups in the intellectual gazettes.

I am afraid that if you want to go down into history you'll have to do something for it.

We wander in our thousands over the face of the earth, the illustrious and the obscure, earning beyond the seas our fame, our money, or only a crust of bread; but it seems to me that for each of us going home must be like going to render an account.

But both the diabolic love and the unearthly hate of the mysteries it had penetrated fought for the possession of that soul satiated with primitive emotions, avid of lying fame, of sham distinction, of all the appearances of success and power.