That's the way to go. People say: 'Oh, he doesn't want to come back, he's scared,' and it's to play with your brain, to play with your mind. I'm not scared of nobody. I'm not scared of no human being. I'm scared to fight, every time I fight I'm scared, but I'll bite into my mouthpiece and I'll walk the walk.

What happens when you accept and embrace your fear? Fear becomes your weapon.

There is a difference between a fighter and a martial artist. A fighter is training for a purpose: He has a fight. I’m a martial artist. I don’t train for a fight. I train for myself. I’m training all the time. My goal is perfection. But I will never reach perfection.

A guy that has more knowledge has the advantage.

The real test is this one: When you're alone in a room, when you're in a private place and nobody else can see you, what do you choose to do? Eat well, or eat poorly? Exercise, or watch television? Practice something, or do nothing? The best version of the truth appears to you and you alone, when nobody else can see. This is the test of discipline, and it's what makes the difference in your life. It's what regulates your own system and guides it. The individual alone comprehends it.

As Aristotle wrote a long, long time ago, and I'm paraphrasing here, the goal is to avoid mediocrity by being prepared to try something and either failing miserably or triumphing grandly. Mediocrity is not about failing, and it's the opposite of doing. Mediocrity, in other words, is about not trying. The reason is achingly simple, and I know you've heard it a thousand times before: what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

If I come back and I lose, at least I know I did everything I should have done, I have no regrets, I'll be happy. I can die happy.