One morning I woke up and found my favorite pigeon, Julius, had died I was devastated and was gonna use his crate as my stickball bat to honor him. I left the crate on my stoop and went in to get something and I returned to see the sanitation man put the crate into the crusher. I rushed him and caught him flush on the temple with a titanic right hand he was out cold, convulsing on the floor like an infantile retard.

If Jesus was here, do you think Jesus would show me any love? Do you think Jesus would love me?

I always had a lot of responsibilities. I just didn't take them. I just decided to take care of my responsibilities, live up to them. That's a pretty interesting job. It's harder than being heavyweight champion of the world.

Box gap is not a thing. If you need to back up to a mirror and bend over to find out how you look, you are playing to the wrong audience.

Most of my fans are too sensitive. I’m a cruel and cold and hard person. I’ve been abused in every way you can imagine. Save your tears. I lost my sensitivity. You embarrass me when you cry.

There's no way I would want to hurt him or bust him up. That's why, for the sake of the family as well as himself, I will take him out in the opening round.

Being a champion opens lots of doors—I'd like to get a real estate license, maybe sell insurance.