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.

You're looking at the reflection of perfection. You're looking at the man who gets all your attention. You're looking at the man with the biggest arm. At the man, with the greatest charm, the man in Chicago who will do harm to the guy three doors down. Whatcha gonna do, when you know who? How ya gonna deal, with the man of steel? How ya gonna react to Sonnen's attack?

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.

Anderson isn't qualified to make Frank Mir a sandwich

You've got to listen to your body, notice some trends in yourself and do the best you can to be ready when a finish line approaches.

They'll tell you failure is not an option. That is ridiculous, failure is always an option. Failure is the most readily available option at all times. But it's a choice. You can choose to fail or you can choose to succeed.

Listen Wanderlei, I will do a home invasion on you. I will cut the power to your house and the next thing you'll hear is me climbing up your stairs in a pair of night vision goggles I bought in the back of Soldier of Fortune magazine. I'll pick the lock to the master room door, take a picture of you in bed with the Nogueira brothers working on your 'jiu-jitsu'. I'll take said quote unquote photograph, post it at dorksfrombrazil.com, password - not required, username - not required. That, Wanderlei, is how you threaten someone. Dummy.