“Golf is my passion, and so is great barbecue.”

I’m a kind of go-getter.

I’ve had it with the USGA and the way they run their tournaments. The USGA loves to embarrass guys who play in their tournaments.

My dad being not the greatest dad in the world has made me a better parent.

I wasn’t a silver-spoon kid on the golf course growing up.

It’s not like I’m starting out with $500 a pull or $1,000 a pull. I go in there and play $25, and if I win, I play $100s.

I didn’t want to admit I had problems. I just let ’em build up. I didn’t want anybody to know I was hurtin’.

In life, you have got to make the best of every situation; you have to keep going.

I would walk off a course. I think I lost a little bit of respect, but hopefully I’ve gained that back.

Sometimes it works out. Sometimes it doesn’t.

I’ve had enough of worrying about everybody else. Now I’m taking care of me.

I know there’s a lot of guys would love to see me fail.

I’m really good at math and history, but I suck in English.

I don’t hide anything. There’s just nothing to hide with me.

I’m not scared of Tiger. I’m not scared to go head-to-head. I’m not scared to have a long-drive contest with him.

Florida sends me a handicap sticker when I’m there. It’s embarrassing. But I can’t walk more than six holes before the whole knee swells up, and then I can’t go anymore.

Perception’s not reality.

I think I’m the only player who looks at each and every center and says to myself, ‘That’s barbecued chicken down there.’

There are no ideas in the South, just barbecue.

You slammed my face down on the barbecue grill, now my scars are all healing, but my heart never will.