In the past, two colleagues died each season. It was generally accepted this could happen.

My father was a motorsports journalist and a motorbike fan. He gave me my motocross bike.

And luckily, therefore the good old days return. The traditional art of driving counts again, and it is all about good tactics, skills and reflexes instead of simple power.

The fact that I am still alive after 100,000 laps is my championship.

The margin between success and drama is fractional.

In the end I didn't get a top car any more. I had no toughness left. That was the reality.

I am infinitely grateful to the life which privileged me.

I believe to have been one of the rare drivers to have returned to Ferrari.

I drove long distances like the 24 hours of Le Mans for years. But even this racing is now over. I retired.

Not to transmit an experience is to betray it.

Death is a distant rumor to the young.

In my experience of women, women have a greater capacity. Maybe women, even very pragmatic ones, are less guarded about showing emotions.

You can get excited about the future. The past won't mind.

Work is against human nature. The proof is that it makes us tired.

Whenever I mention Greg Kinnear's name to anyone, they always say, "Oh, love him!" He's a really terrific actor, and very funny.

Maybe your weird is my normal. Who's to say?

Our national myths often exaggerate the role of the individual heroes and understate the importance of collective effort.

Is it no imputation to be arraigned before this House, in which I have sat forty years, and to have my name transmitted to posterity with disgrace and infamy?

If you love someone, you are always joined with them--in joy, in absence, in solitude, in strife.