There are no tough guys in wrestling.

I'm the tower of power, too sweet to be sour. I'm funky like a monkey. Sky's the limit and space is the place!

Hulkamania is like a single grain of sand in the Sahara desert that is Macho Madness.

Let me tell you now a man of my position can afford to look ridiculous at any time.

You will eat my rear rockets and like it! Ohhhh yeahhh!

Too hot to handle, too cold to hold!

I'm the tower of power, too sweet to be sour.

Best there is... past, present and future! Ohhhhh yeahhhh!

Expect the unexpected in the kingdom of madness!

Ten thousand years as Intercontinental Champion, Oooooh yeeeah!

The madness is runnin' wild!

The truth is, that MOST of the time MOST of us take the road MOST traveled, the path of least resistance and MOST comfortable.

A change of style is a change of meaning.

I wish I could stand on a busy corner hat in hand and beg people to throw me all their wasted hours.

I'm currently in an interesting correspondence with a nun about forgiveness.

I'm just a crazy person. I mean, I really didn't have any trouble coming up with weird ways for people to die. I think I'm just very twisted!

Nothing I did contributed to me having cancer, so I can't sit back and say, 'Oh why me.' Why not me? Why does tragedy always have to hit someone else?

School yourself to demureness and patience. Learn to inure yourself to drudgery in science. Learn, compare, collect the facts.

Most work in macroeconomics in the past 30 years has been useless at best and harmful at worst.

I started to think of Grace of Monaco as a metaphor for women in general.

You must believe: a poem is a holy thing - a good poem, that is. The poem, even a short time after being written, seems no miracle; unwritten, it seems something beyond the capacity of the gods.