I try not to kid myself. You know, I don't mind romancing someone else, but to fool yourself is pretty devastating and dangerous.
Hating the Yankees isn't part of my act. It is one of those exquisite times when life and art are in perfect conjunction.
People identify with the swashbuckling individuals, not polite little men who field their position well. Sir Galahad had a big following - but I'll bet Lancelot had more.
I don't break the rules. I merely test their elasticity.
Baseball is the only game left for people. To play basketball, you have to be 7 feet 6 inches. To play football, you have to be the same width.
Baseball is the only thing beside the paper clip that hasn't changed
I was in the game for love. After all, where else can an old-timer with one leg, who can't hear or see, live like a king while doing the only thing I wanted to do?
The Falstaff people, romantics all, went for it. They were so anxious to find out what I was going to do that they could hardly bear to wait out the two weeks. I was rather anxious to find out what I was going to do, too.
Though it is a team game by definition, it is actually a series of loosely connected individual efforts.
Three strikes, you're out. I don't care if you hire Edward Bennett Williams to defend you; three strikes, you're still out. Baseball is an island of stability in an unstable world.
When the Supreme Court says baseball isn't run like a business, everybody jumps up and down with joy. When I say the same thing, everybody throws pointy objects at me.
The season starts too early and finishes too late and there are too many games in between.
An island of surety in a changing world.
If U.S. Grant had been leading a team of baseball players, they'd have second guessed him all the way to the doorknob of the Appomattox Courthouse.
When there is no room for individualism in ballparks, then there will be no room for individualism in life.
Suffering is overated.
