I was a gift to my mother. She was a remarkable person. God or nature, or whatever those forces are, smiled on her, then passed me the best of her.

We all suffer from the preoccupation that there exists... in the loved one, perfection.

So I had to be careful. I recognized the responsibility that, whether I liked it or not, I had to accept whatever the obligation was. That was to behave in a manner, to carry myself in such a professional way, as if there ever is a reflection, it's a positive one.

I was born two months early, and everyone had given up on me. But my mother insisted on my life.

As I've mentioned, a large part of my father's legacy is the lesson he taught his sons. He brought us together and said, 'The measure of a man is how well he provides for his children.

I find myself, at this time in my life, no less challenged, no less plagued, no less intrigued by what I still don't know.

History passes the final judgment