Baseball is like church. Many attend few understand.

In the olden days, the umpire didn't have to take any courses in mind reading. The pitcher told you he was going to throw at you.

I never questioned the integrity of an umpire. Their eyesight, yes.

To some it's a six-pack, to me it's a "support group". Salvation in a can!

Buy a steak for a player on another club after the game, but don't even speak to him on the field. Get out there and beat them to death.

Win any way as long as you can get away with it. Nice guys finish last.

Give me some scratching, diving, hungry ballplayers who come to kill you.

I believe in rules. Sure I do. If there weren't any rules, how could you break them?

I never did say that you can't be a nice guy and win. I said that if I was playing third base and my mother rounded third with the winning run, I'd trip her up.

You don't save a pitcher for tomorrow. Tomorrow it may rain.

Branch Rickey once said of me that I was a man with an infinite capacity for immediately making a bad thing worse.

The idea that I could work wonders as the Lord flutters through my mind like a glamorous butterfly. I hasten to catch it, but it escapes into the depths of my mind.

Lennon was very helpful. What he taught me seems completely obvious: he expected people to treat each other well.

Oh the nerves, the nerves; the mysteries of this machine called man! Oh the little that unhinges it, poor creatures that we are!

I wish I were a girl again, half savage and hardy, and free... Why am I so changed? I'm sure I should be myself were I once among the heather on those hills.

I thought very seriously having something more like a normal life where I might have my weekends and evenings off, and be able to read and have a more robust personal life.

The Champagne they have stored is getting more valuable every year.

Attitudes are much more important than facts.

The best formula for revenge is success.

But I already saw no great difference between the psyche and spirituality. To amass knowledge without becoming wise is not my idea of progress in therapy.

Nothing is more wistful than the scent of lilac, nor more robust than its woody stalk, for we must remember that it is a tree as well as a flower, we must try not to forget this.