When I leave the NBA, I don't want my legacy to be, 'He won a championship ring.' I want my legacy to say: 'He played for the people. He gave everybody in the world hope that they can be just like him.'

They gave high fives to all the players who say like the most obvious textbook answers in the world. It's like after each game, you already know what they're going to say. If they lost: "Ahh ... Tough loss." It's like, come on, how do you guys fall for that? And if they something that they really feel, everyone goes crazy. Like "Oohh! He's spazzing out!" Now he gotta say sorry for saying something he really felt. It's like, Oh lord.

I'm still trying to be a kid. I really don't want to feel like an adult.

I want to be the best at whatever I do. I don't care who gets in the way.

You have to do everything to help your team out. I have the ability to rebound, so I might as well go and do it to help my team win.

I want to be the best in whatever I do.

The thing that happened in Washington -- it happened. All you can do is just grow from it. That took a toll on me. That was probably -- I think if I could've bounced mentally out of that situation faster than I did, I would probably still be in the NBA. But since I couldn't understand why they were trying to treat me like that, I basically gave up. I just didn't want to be a part of it anymore.