A Quote by Tacitus

The love of fame is the last weakness which even the wise resign. — © Tacitus
The love of fame is the last weakness which even the wise resign.
Though the desire of fame be the last weakness Wise men put off.
I want to tell the world of cycling to please join me in telling Pat McQuaid to resign. I have never seen such an abuse of power in cycling's history - resign, Pat, if you love cycling. Resign even if you hate the sport.
There’s one thing that’s been 'learned' maybe from Tunisia and Egypt that I think is a mistake. And that is that the existing ruler has to resign. He doesn’t have to resign. You take all the supports out from under him; he falls. No matter what he wants to do. This is the distinction in the analyses between nonviolent coercion in which he has to resign, but he’s forced into it, and disintegration when the regime simply falls apart. There’s nobody left with enough power to resign.
The lust of fame is the last that a wise man shakes off.
Even for learned men, love of fame is the last thing to be given up.
Love of fame is the last thing even learned men can bear to be parted from.
The love of fame is a passion natural and universal, which no man, however high or mean, however wise or ignorant, was yet able to despise.
I love celebrities, and I love the concept of fame, but it took me getting fame to realize that it doesn't exist, which was kind of a bummer. Fame is great if you're not famous, because it seems like this elusive impossible dream world. And it's not. It's a fancy word that managers and producers make up so they can keep hawking you for more money.
Praise of power leads to weakness; Love of things leads to loss; The wise one leads by filling people's hearts; He destroys illusion and disturbs those who believe they are wise; He does nothing yet everything happens.
I think there are different kinds of fame. There's fame which is plastic and about paparazzi and money and being rich, and then there's the fame, which is when no one knows who you are but everyone wants to know who you are.
Whatever be the motives which induce men to write,--whether avarice or fame,--the country becomes more wise and happy in which they most serve for instructors.
My sweet rose, my delicate flower, my lily of lilies, it is perhaps in prison that I am going to test the power of love. I am going to see if I cannot make the bitter warders sweet by the intensity of the love I bear you. I have had moments when I thought it would be wise to separate. Ah! Moments of weakness and madness! Now I see that would have mutilated my life, ruined my art, broken the musical chords which make a perfect soul. Even covered with mud I shall praise you, from the deepest abysses I shall cry to you. In my solitude you will be with me.
Even He that died for us upon the cross, in the last hour, in the unutterable agony of death, was mindful of His mother, as if to teach us that this holy love should be our last worldly thought - the last point of earth from which the soul should take its flight for heaven.
But if the strength ain't real, I recall thinking the very last thing that day, before I finally passed out, then the weakness sure enough is. Weakness is true and real. I used to accuse the kid of faking his weakness. But faking proves the weakness is real. Or you wouldn't be so weak as to fake it. No, you can't ever fake being weak. You can only fake being strong. . .
She spoke and loosened from her bosom the embroidered girdle of many colors into which all her allurements were fashioned. In it was love and int desire which steals the mind even of the wise.
I hate cars that much, I don't even own one. The last one I bought was a Honda CR-V which I didn't even take for a test drive because I was so disinterested. But I love 'Top Gear.'
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