Quotes
Quotes about Fame
Dan Chaucer, well of English undefyled,
On Fame's eternall beadroll worthie to be fyled.
I would give all my fame for a pot of ale and safety.
Men in great place are thrice servants,--servants of the sovereign or state, servants of fame, and servants of business.
Nothing can cover his high fame but heaven;
No pyramids set off his memories,
But the eternal substance of his greatness,--
To which I leave him.
Fame sometimes hath created something of nothing.
Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise
(That last infirmity of noble mind)
To scorn delights, and live laborious days;
But the fair guerdon when we hope to find,
And think to burst out into sudden blaze,
Comes the blind Fury with th' abhorred shears
And slits the thin-spun life.
Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil.
What needs my Shakespeare for his honour'd bones,--
The labour of an age in piled stones?
Or that his hallow'd relics should be hid
Under a star-y-pointing pyramid?
Dear son of memory, great heir of fame,
What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name?
But whither am I strayed? I need not raise
Trophies to thee from other men's dispraise;
Nor is thy fame on lesser ruins built;
Nor needs thy juster title the foul guilt
Of Eastern kings, who, to secure their reign,
Must have their brothers, sons, and kindred slain.
Fame then was cheap, and the first comer sped;
And they have kept it since by being dead.
The aspiring youth that fired the Ephesian dome
Outlives in fame the pious fool that rais'd it.
One to destroy is murder by the law,
And gibbets keep the lifted hand in awe;
To murder thousands takes a specious name,
War's glorious art, and gives immortal fame.
If parts allure thee, think how Bacon shin'd,
The wisest, brightest, meanest of mankind!
Or ravish'd with the whistling of a name,
See Cromwell, damn'd to everlasting fame!
Who builds a church to God and not to fame,
Will never mark the marble with his name.
As yet a child, nor yet a fool to fame,
I lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came.
Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame.
Above all Greek, above all Roman fame.
All crowd, who foremost shall be damn'd to fame.
Nor Fame I slight, nor for her favours call;
She comes unlooked for if she comes at all.
Unblemish'd let me live, or die unknown;
O grant an honest fame, or grant me none!
The rest were vulgar deaths, unknown to fame.
The life which others pay let us bestow,
And give to fame what we to nature owe.
Earth sounds my wisdom and high heaven my fame.
Our fruitless labours mourn,
And only rich in barren fame return.
But sure the eye of time beholds no name
So blest as thine in all the rolls of fame.
