It is my belief that the writer, the free-lance author, should be and must be a critic of the society in which he lives. It is easy enough, and always profitable, to rail away at national enemies beyond the sea, at foreign powers beyond our borders who question the prevailing order. But the moral duty of the free writer is to begin his work at home; to be a critic of his own community, his own country, his own culture. If the writer is unwilling to fill this part, then the writer should abandon pretense and find another line of work: become a shoe repairman, a brain surgeon, a janitor, a cowboy, a nuclear physicist, a bus driver.
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Never has an athlete's retirement been so welcome.
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The real 196s began on the afternoon of November 22, 1963....It came to seem that Kennedy's murder opened some malign trap door in American culture, and the wild bats flapped out.
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If you lose a game you're not going to sleep, or even if you win sometimes because there's always the next game. It's a lot of wear and tear on your mind. Some of the series you could be down or facing elimination, and that puts stress on you. You have to bear down with it and prepare yourself for your next shift.
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It's great to beat your goals -- and it's not that sports goals are bad, but this one was much better, ... This combines my two main passions in life, outside of my children.
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That devilish Iron Horse, whose ear-rending neigh is heard throughout the town, has muddied the Boiling Spring with his foot, and he it is that has browsed off all the woods on Walden shore, that Trojan horse, with a thousand men in his belly, introduced by mercenary Greeks! Where is the country's champion, the Moore of Moore Hall, to meet him at the Deep Cut and thrust an avenging lance between the ribs of the bloated pest?
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At the end of the day, if there was indeed some Body or presence standing there to judge me, I hoped I would be judged on whether I had lived a true life, not on whether I believed in a certain book, or whether I'd been baptized. If there was indeed a God at the end of my days, I hoped he didn't say, But you were never a Christian, so you're going the other way from heaven . If so, I was going to reply, You know what? You're right. Fine .
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The truth is, if you asked me to choose between winning the Tour de France and cancer, I would choose cancer. Odd as it sounds, I would rather have the title of cancer survivor than winner of the Tour, because of what it has done for me as a human being, a man, a husband, a son, and a father.
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Sitting here today, dealing with all this stuff again, knowing if I were to go back, there's no way I could get a fair shake on the roadside, in doping control, or the labs,
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He is that fallen lance that lies as hurled, That lies unlifted now, come dew, come rust,...
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This is what extremely grieves us, that a man who never fought Should contrive our fees to pilfer, on who for his native land Never to this day had oar, or lance, or blister in his hand.
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I didn't know, ... I had no idea ... maybe bike related, maybe I hit it somehow, maybe sex related! But I said, 'This is ridiculous,' and the pain just wouldn't go away.
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Without cancer, I never would have won a single Tour de France. Cancer taught me a plan for more purposeful living, and that in turn taught me how to train and to win more purposefully. It taught me that pain has a reason, and that sometimes the experience of losing things
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Through my illness I learned rejection. I was written off. That was the moment I thought, Okay, game on. No prisoners. Everybody's going down.
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The latter part of the year with the rumor, that was a nightmare. Fortunately, sports fans see through it.
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Dealing with all this stuff again, knowing if I were to go back, there's no way I could get a fair shake - on the roadside, in doping control or the labs,
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For cycling and the community, it's a big step. This would be a great way to bring kids into the sport and have them around coaches that are constantly observing them. I hope it happens.
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Pain is temporary, quitting lasts forever.
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This is what extremely grieves us, that a man who never fought
Should contrive our fees to pilfer, on who for his native land
Never to this day had oar, or lance, or blister in his hand.
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I know people who have ridden with him, ... I can tell you he's one very competitive guy. Very competitive, there's no talking. A few minutes of warm up time, a little chitchat, then you go.
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As American productivity, once the exuberant engine of national wealth, has dipped to an embarrassingly uncompetitive low, Americans have shaken their heads: the country's old work ethic is dead.
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I opened it back up because in my heart it seemed like the right answer. But now I know I couldn't go to France and get a fair shake on the road, in doping control or the hotels.
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I look forward to achieving my goal of a seventh Tour de France (victory),
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You do 'Larry King Live,
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The perfect host requires the perfect parasite.
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This is the first big test of large-scale cycling in the United States post-Lance.
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Another inspiration that has helped me get through has been Lance Armstrong's story. My cancer is not nearly as bad as his, but I believe in staying motivated and keeping as fit as you can.
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For violence, like Achilles' lance, can heal the wounds it has inflicted.
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Everywhere you hang your hat is home. Home is the bright cave under the hat.
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The free-lance writer is a man who is paid per piece or per word or perhaps.
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