“Green and black go well together, dont they?”

Nobody could have prepared me for the life I’ve had to become accustomed to.

You can play from the wrong position for a long time with good hands, but eventually it’s going to catch up with you.

There’s always stuff to work on. You’re never there.

Golf is something I do selfishly for myself.

It’s hard to believe, but anything can happen. Accidents do happen, unfortunately, it happened at the worst time.

I get to play golf for a living. What more can you ask for – getting paid for doing what you love.

My dad told me this: You get out of it what you put into it. If you put in effort and log your time, you’ll get the results.

Money and fame made me believe I was entitled. I was wrong and foolish.

I love to compete. That’s the essence of who I am.

I was unfaithful, I had affairs, I cheated.

The thing you don’t dream about as a kid is all the peripheral stuff that comes with success.

If you are given a chance to be a role model, I think you should always take it because you can influence a person’s life in a positive light, and that’s what I want to do. That’s what it’s all about.

No matter who you are, the game is fluid. The game is always evolving, so you always have to keep working on it. There are plenty of hours in the day to get that done.

We all make decisions. But in the end, our decisions make us.

My dad was my best friend and greatest role model. He was an amazing dad, coach, mentor, soldier, husband and friend.

The majority of my blood is Asian.

I wore black because I liked it. I still do, and wearing it still means something to me. It’s still my symbol of rebellion — against a stagnant status quo, against our hypocritical houses of God, against people whose minds are closed to others’ ideas.

I said there was a society of men among us, bred up from their youth in the art of proving by words multiplied for the purpose, that white is black, and black is white, according as they are paid. To this society all the rest of the people are as slaves.

Tell me what is life, is it black and white or an explosion of colors setting off at night.

I wear the black for the poor and the beaten down, Livin’ in the hopeless, hungry side of town, I wear it for the prisoner who has long paid for his crime, But is there because he’s a victim of the times.

I want nothing to do with politicians. Their hearts wither away, and die out of their bodies. Their consciences are turned to india-rubber, or to some substance as black as that, and which will stretch as much.

Some negroes lie, some are immoral, some negro men are not be trusted around women – black and white. But this is a truth that applies to the human race and to no particular race of men.

Until things are brighter. I’m the man in black.

The old church tower and garden wall Are black with autumn rain And dreary winds foreboding call The darkness down again.