The trouble with me is that every match I play against five opponents: umpire, crowd, ball boys, court, and myself.

Actually, I tossed it nicely, landed nicely, like airplane. No warning, beautiful. That's the art of throwing racquets.

I must be the only player in the world who ever injured himself for a tournament by stepping on a shell on the beach. I don't know what I'm going to do.

If I can't serve on grass, I can maybe help cut the grass, paint the lines and serve some strawberries.

I think I owe it to myself and my fans in Britain to play one more Wimbledon.

The best book I read this year was 'The Da Vinci Code.'

Although we didn't have much when I was growing up in Split, Croatia, my parents always tried to ensure that my sister and I had the things we needed, and it was enough for us.