What is fame? The advantage of being known by people of whom you yourself know nothing, and for whom you care as little.

What is the end of Fame? 'tis but to fill A certain portion of uncertain paper: Some liken it to climbing up a hill, Whose summit, like all hills, is lost in vapour: For this men write, speak, preach, and heroes kill, And bards burn what they call their "midnight taper," To have, when the original is dust, A name, a wretched picture, and worse bust.

Mark! Where his carnage and his conquests cease, He makes a solitude and calls it-peace!

But there are wanderers o'er Eternity Whose bark drives on and on, and anchor'd ne'er shall be.

As falls the dew on quenchless sands, blood only serves to wash ambition's hands.

I am so changeable, being everything by turns and nothing long - such a strange melange of good and evil.

My turn of mind is so given to taking things in the absurd point of view, that it breaks out in spite of me every now and then.