“I would lie in bed, and I was nine years old, and say to myself: ‘I want to be the richest man in the world.’ I’ve come a long way from there.”

A true champion can adapt to anything.

I always put my boxing first.

I’m a boxer who believes that the object of the sport is to hit and not get hit.

You could take me anywhere. You could take me to the moon, and believe me, everybody’s going to try to take a trip to the moon to watch me fight.

You’ve got to have a villain and they’ll always make me a villain. I’m used to it – it makes me work harder and it makes me fight harder.

When you’re the best, you only want to surround yourself with the best.

There’s ups and downs with boxing, layoffs are part of the sport and they can either help or hurt a guy.

I think I already proved that I wasn’t just fighting for the money, because I fought as an amateur. I fought 90 fights for free.

I push myself to the limit.

I turned pro as a 20-year-old, won a world title a year later, and remained a world champion ever since.

I’ll back up anything my dad says.

Every home that I have is paid for, every car that I have is paid for, and I am a hundred-million-dollar man. I mean, this is the truth; it’s not a lie.

You have to protect yourself at all times. What goes around comes around.

People have said things about me, and wrote and criticized me about things in the past, but it goes in one ear and out the other.

I think my grandmother saw my potential first. When I was young, I told her, ‘I think I should get a job.’ She said, ‘No, just keep boxing.’

I’m always focused.

I often think that a slightly exposed shoulder emerging from a long satin nightgown packs more sex than two naked bodies in bed.

I spend a lot of time in bed when I’m off. But if I’m feeling adventurous, I’ll go to a gallery.

As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect.

Just think how many thoughts a blanket smothers while one lies alone in bed, and how many unhappy dreams it keeps warm.

I remember really vividly kneeling by my bed as a nine-year-old, saying my prayers and asking God to give me boobs that were so big that if I laid on my back I wouldn’t be able to see my feet.

Don’t go to bed with any woman crazier than you are.

I can’t wrap my head around the fact that I have to convince half the world’s population that my body is not their bed.

My flowers rot beneath my bed. I was too selfish to part with them. I hope their deaths don’t bring hexes. Did I say flowers? I meant my exes.