Life is a series of hard and easy runs.

The difference between the mile and the marathon is the difference between burning your fingers with a match and being slowly roasted over hot coals.

The marathon never ceases to be a race of joy, a race of wonder.

In the big city, if the man next door happens to be a slum landlord, a Mafia bag man, or a long distance runner, what does it matter, as long as he puts his garbage out on Tuesdays?

It can be said that the first half of the marathon is 20 miles long; the second half, 6.2 more.

What is the purpose of any one workout? Enjoyment? Improvement? Coach said so? Whatever, the hour you run often is the best hour of the day.

Even when you have gone as far as you can, and everything hurts, and you are staring at the specter of self-doubt, you can find a bit more strength deep inside you, if you look closely enough.