Reference Quote
ShuffleSimilar Quotes
Quote search results. More quotes will automatically load as you scroll down, or you can use the load more buttons.
As for fame, fame felt like nothing. Fame was not a sensation like love or hunger or loneliness, welling from within and invisible to the outside eye. It was rather entirely external, coming from the minds of others. It existed in the way people looked at him or behaved towards him. In that, being famous was no different from being gay, or Jewish, or from a visible minority: you are who you are, and then people project onto you some notion they have.
I think having fame as a musician is different to ‘regular’ fame. It doesn’t really mean the same thing. Like, if that fame were to leave, you’d still feel the same way. You’d still feel confused about your feelings, you’d still have something to express, regardless of whether anyone listened to you or recognised you. Rather than chasing fame, you’re chasing an unknown feeling inside of you. If we stopped having this level of fame, we’d still write songs.
I think that there is this idea that what you should go after is fame. That is a hugely mistaken idea because fame means absolutely nothing. This whole culture of wanting to become famous is on a hiding to nothing, a sign of a society that’s lost its way and will only judge people as being valid if they’re famous, which of course is all bullshit. As Tom Stoppard said, the only thing that fame means is that more people know you than you know.”
Enhance Your Quote Experience
Enjoy ad-free browsing, unlimited collections, and advanced search features with Premium.
Born to myself, I like myself alone, And must conclude my judgment good, or none: For could my sense be naught, how should I know Whether another man's were good or no? Thus I resolve of my own poetry, That 'tis the best; and there's a fame for me. If then I'm happy, what does it advance, Whether to merit due, or arrogance? Oh, but the world will take offence hereby! Why then the world shall suffer for 't, not I. Did eer this saucy world and I agree, To let it have its beastly will on me? Why should my prostituted sense be drawn To every rule their musty customs spawn? But men may censure you; 'tis two to one, Whene'er they censure, they'll be in the wrong. There's not a thing on Earth, that I can name, So foolish, and so false, as common fame. It calls the courtier knave, the plain man rude, Haughty the grave, and the delightful lewd, Impertinent the brisk, morose the sad, Mean the familiar, the reserv'd-one mad. Poor helpless woman is not favour'd more, She's a sly hypocrite, or public whore. Then who the Devil would give this — to be free From th' innocent reproach of infamy These things consider'd, make me (in despite Of idle rumour) keep at home and write.
Loading more quotes...
Loading...