Boxing is a mental sport. Think of a prizefight as a chess game of mind and body, and you are a little closer to it than if you compare it to a bloody brawl in an alley.

Isn't everyone a part of everyone else?

I suppose it's too bad people can't be a little more consistent. But if they were, maybe they would stop being people.

Living with a conscience is like driving a car with the brakes on.

Silence is the sure sign that youre on your way out in Hollywood.

Fights can be dumped in a dozen ways. Sometimes everybody but the fighter knows. Sometimes only the fighter knows.

Very few fighters get the consideration of racehorses, which are put out to pasture to grow old with dignity and comfort when they haven't got it anymore.

As much as I love boxing, I hate it. And as much as I hate it, I love it.

Unless we know people well, we sit around with our words and our minds starched, afraid of being ourselves for fear of wrinkling them.

You can't eat your friends and have them too

You either go along with the system - conform to what is expected to be a hit - or you have very tough going

I don't even understand the connection with 'died for your sins'. He died for your sin, well, how does one affect the other? 'I hit myself in the foot with a shovel for your mortgage'...

True time is four-dimensional.

I feel like the majority of the fear that I had or that we have we hold from other people. They're like people that we trust they're their fears. All of a sudden we think that they're our fears.

I don't think about being tired, I don't think about my technique. I just try to break their will.

I think if I were a woman I'd wear coffee as a perfume.

Relationships that do not end peacefully, do not end at all.

You do not die all at once. Some tissues live on for minutes, even hours, giving still their little cellular shrieks, molecular echoes of the agony of the whole corpus.

It became clear to the whole world that a totalitarian regime could neither accuse nor transform itself: suicide was not in its nature, it could only kill others.

Electronic music right now is in its comfort zone, and it's not moving one inch.

Come let us mock at the great That had such burdens on the mind And toiled so hard and late To leave some monument behind, Nor thought of the leveling wind.