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

Conscience. That stuff can drive you nuts.

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

Hey, you want to hear my philosophy of life? Do it to him before he does it to you.

I could have had class. I could have been a contender.

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

Silence is the sure sign that you're on your way out in Hollywood.

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.

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.