When I came to Detroit I was just a mild-mannered Sunday-school boy.

I had to fight all my life to survive. They were all against me, but I beat the bastards and left them in the ditch.

I have observed that baseball is not unlike war, and when you get right down to it, we batters are the heavy artillery.

Don't come home a failure.

The base paths belonged to me, the runner. The rules gave me the right. I always went into a bag full speed, feet first. I had sharp spikes on my shoes. If the baseman stood where he had no business to be and got hurt, that was his fault.

When I began playing the game, baseball was about as gentlemanly as a kick in the crotch.

The way those clubs shift against Ted Williams, I can't understand how he can be so stupid not to accept the challenge to him and hit to left field.