I prefer the pleasure of having become an obscure writer to the earlier rewards of being a famed one. I am happier under the comforting shelter of anonymity than in the open arena of public turmoil. The promptings of personal ambition fail to move me; serenity is worth more to me than success. But although the publishing period of my life seems to have ended, the writing period never did. My jottings continue. I have become insignificant but not idle.
-- Notebooks Category 12: Reflections > Chapter 5: The Literary Work > # 331