The more popular something becomes, the more it must cater to the average.
As the appeal increases, the amount of feedback must decrease. To appeal to the masses is to draw the attention of both the highest and lowest dredges of human experience.
If the material stands on a big enough platform, it must be broken apart, dissected to its most basic levels, stripped of the innovation that placed it above, to be better understood from below.
As the masses accrue, the pedestal where you stand must become higher, lest you become overwhelmed by the frenzied mass.
You must place distance between yourself and the others.
You cannot appease the crowd without losing a part of yourself (only a madman would try to appease everyone).
There is something beneficial about starting over — of freeing yourself from the shackles of so many relationships which you have no obligation to please.
The world may know you, but you may not know all of it.
You are not a single individual — you are a collection of desires and competing interests, bound in one body.
How much less then is the individual who caters to the world? To be the puppet of every interest except your own?