“When I miss a shot I just think what a beautiful day it is. And what pure fresh air I’m breathing. Then I take a deep breath. I have to do that. That’s what gives me the strength to break the club.”

The help (in Japan) is very polite. They bow so much, you don’t know which end to talk to.

Out here in the Pacific, they have typhoons and hurricanes that blow over 200 miles an hour. We have tornadoes and hurricanes back home, but I don’t worry about them. The mortgage on my house is so heavy that nothing could budge it.

She got to enjoy the personal side of the players. They were her kids. The Braves were her family.

Free speech isn’t dead in Germany and Italy, merely the speakers.

I don’t do a lot of political jokes. Too many are getting elected.

My next door neighbor just had a pacemaker installed. They’re still working the bugs out, though. Every time he makes love, my garage door opens.

I do benefits for all religions – I’d hate to blow the hereafter on a technicality.

The good news is that Jesus is coming back. The bad news is that he’s really pissed off.

Bing Crosby and I weren’t the types to go around kissing each other. We always had a light jab for each other.

Pebble Beach is Alcatraz with grass.

I’ve been playing the game so long that my handicap is in Roman numerals.

Whenever I play with him , I usually try to make it a foursome – the President, myself, a paramedic and a faith healer.

I asked the colonel what type of aircraft it was, and he said, “Don’t worry about it, Bob. . . if you can see it, it’s obsolete.”

I don’t know if the presidential candidates are running for the White House or Animal House.

I get upset over a bad shot just like anyone else. But it’s silly to let the game get to you.

You know what a fan letter is – it’s just an inky raspberry.

It’s about alleviating stress and controlling breathing. It’s about being balanced.

Money is important yes, but not the most important. I don’t need money to smile or breathe.

I would still be breathing if all my money disappeared tomorrow.

If I had Sirius FM and fire-breathing in a giant puppy dragon, I’d be golden.

For me, songwriting is something like breathing: I just do it. But that doesn’t mean you’re fantastic.

I’m so busy trying to breathe through the pain that I’m breathing through the pain of being with people, and that is no way to spend a life.

Fear less, hope more. Eat less, chew more. Talk less, say more. Hate less, love more.

I don’t want to live anywhere where I’m breathing two million cars’ fumes and paying a zillion dollars for the right to be totally hassled.