The way I fight, it's not me beatin' the man. I make the man whip himself.

You know that old saying, 'A way to a man's heart is through his stomach' - that's me.

Hitting coach John Mallee, he comes to the ballpark way too early for me, man. He drives me nuts.

I'd like someone tall, dark and nice. Independent and confident. Not a macho man. Perhaps a little bit girly, in a way. The key for me is if we can cry with laughter.

The CrossFit games, the four-time Fittest Man on Earth isn't about me. It's about Him and the talents that I've been given. It's my way to glorify Him through what I do.

I want to be the first. If they'd let me go to the moon, I'd crawl all the way to Cape Kennedy just to do it. I'd like to go to the moon, but I don't want to be the second man to go there.

Because I never thought the Lord would treat me any different from any other honest man or that I had an official position that compelled the Lord to help me in any other way than He would help any other man.

At Duke, the coaches would cover up for you. But with the Wolves, something happen,s and it's in the papers, and I'm blamed. Things are run differently here - the wrong way, if you ask me. One man wants to blame another.

When I first got out to Hollywood, they were pushing me for sitcoms, and I didn't really have an interest in them. I wanted to do films and slowly worked that way. And then it became, I guess, this curse of the leading man.

A woman can laugh and cry in three seconds and it's not weird. But if a man does it, it's very disturbing. The way I'd describe it is like this: I have been allowed inside the house of womanhood, but I feel that they wouldn't let me in any of the interesting rooms.

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