I don't care what the situation was, how high the stakes were - the bases could be loaded and the pennant riding on every pitch, it never bothered Whitey. He pitched his game. Cool. Craft. Nerves of steel.

Because the players knew that if Billy asked them to jump off a roof, he'd jump off with them.

I hated to bat against Drysdale. After he hit you he'd come around, look at the bruise on your arm and say, 'Do you want me to sign it?'

Don't do as I did. I'm living proof of how not to live.

At my best I was as good as anyone.

If the World Series was on the line and I could pick one pitcher to pitch the game, I'd choose Whitey Ford every time.

When I'm hitting, I'd play for nothing. When I'm not, any kind of money I receive makes me feel as if I'm stealing.