There is nothing like playing at Wimbledon; you can feel the footprints of the legends of the game-men and women-that have graced those courts.

Some people say I have attitude - maybe I do... but I think you have to. You have to believe in yourself when no one else does - that makes you a winner right there.

I don't focus on what I'm up against. I focus on my goals and I try to ignore the rest.

Just believe in yourself. Even if you don't, pretend that you do and, at some point, you will.

My motto is: I'm alive, so that means I can do anything.

In my mind, I'm always the best. If I walk out on the court (and) I think the next person is better, I've already lost.

Of course, I want to be number one. But being happy and healthy is the most important thing.

Tennis is mostly mental. Of course, you must have a lot of physical skill, but you can't play tennis well and not be a good thinker. You win or lose the match before you even go out there.

When you lose, you're more motivated. When you win, you fail to see your mistakes and probably no one can tell you anything.

In the sports arena I would say there is nothing like training and preparation. You have to train your mind as much as your body.

If I cared deeply about what people thought of me, I probably would have never made it out of Compton, California.

Intuition is a sense of knowing how to act spontaneously, without needing to know why.

The new information technology... Internet and e-mail... have practically eliminated the physical costs of communications.

It'll be great. Of course I was disappointed last year. But . . I'll get my revenge.

The exception does not prove the rule.

The only redemptive feature of war is the brotherhood which it forges.

This is why I decided to work with Nike, too, because it is even more mass-market than Givenchy and could make entry-price shoes and make people dream to be part of the journey.

The few have said, Think! The many have said, Believe! The first doubt was the womb and cradle of progress, and from the first doubt, man has continued to advance.

He went like one that hath been stunn'd, And is of sense forlorn: A sadder and a wiser man He rose the morrow morn.

All that's bright must fade, The brightest still the fleetest; All that's sweet was made But to be lost when sweetest.

Time is rhythm: the insect rhythm of a warm humid night, brain ripple, breathing, the drum in my temple—these are our faithful timekeepers; and reason corrects the feverish beat.