“This is a game of misses. The guy who misses the best is going to win.”

If we could have just screwed another head on his shoulders, he would have been the greatest golfer who ever lived.

I’m glad I brought this course, this monster, to its knees.

Hit the ball up to the hole… You meet a better class of people up there.

There is no similarity between golf and putting; they are two different games, one played in the air, and the other on the ground.

I don’t like the glamour. I just like the game.

If the Masters offered no money at all, I would be here trying just as hard.

Why that would be like challenging Bing Crosby to a singing contest,wouldn’t it

You hear stories about me beating my brains out practising, but the truth is, I was enjoying myself. I couldn’t wait to get up in the morning, so I could hit balls. When I’m hitting the ball where I want, hard and crisply, it’s a joy that very few people experience.

I have found the game to be, in all factualness, a universal language wherever I traveled at home or abroad.

Certainly, if you can’t manage your game, you can’t play tournament golf.

The only thing a golfer needs is more daylight.

You only hit a straight ball by accident. The ball is going to move right or left every time you hit it, so you had better make it go one way or the other.

Good golf begins with a good grip.

All other things being equal, greens break to the west.

You continually have to ask yourself what club to play, where to aim it, whether to accept a safe par or to try to go for a birdie. You can’t play every hole the same way. I never could.

Jesus Christ can’t hit a golf ball straight. It’s virtually impossible – at best it’s an accident.