You tell Anderson Silva that I'm coming over and I'm kicking down his backdoor and patting his little lady on the ass and I'm telling her to make me a steak, medium-rare just how I like it.

I don't do camps. Camps are for kids. I don't sleep in tents or roast marshmallows. I certainly don't tell ghost stories or own a sleeping bag. But I do work hard every single day.

I found that to build mental toughness, you need to inconvenience yourself. The early morning runs, if you hate early mornings. The late night runs, if you hate late nights. The snowy cold, the worst conditions you can get, put yourself in those and really make it inconvenient and you start to get a genuine expectation of winning for the price you have to pay.

Send anyone you want, but don't send anyone you want back.

I should be the reigning champion. I punch a guy 300 times, he punches me a couple and they call him the champion? In what parallel universe does that make you the winner? I am the champion. I’ve been the champion. Anderson’s ribs have the exact same problem that his hands and his feet have, they’re attached to a cowardly person.

Machida is not a bad guy; he's a victim of the brazilian education system. There are better ways to get electrolytes than drinking piss.

Even if I thought I could get a submission I'm not laying underneath a grown man with my legs spread on worldwide TV. Some guys subscribe to that theory but I am a Republican and we don't do that.