Baseball changes through the years. It gets milder.
I didn't mean to hit the umpire with the dirt, but I did mean to hit that bastard in the stands.
How about a little noise. How do you expect a man to putt?
Gee, its lonesome in the outfield. It's hard to keep awake with nothing to do.
Every strike brings me closer to the next home run.
Don't let the fear of striking out hold you back.
Don't ever forget two things I'm going to tell you. One, don't believe everything that's written about you. Two, don't pick up too many checks.
Baseball was, is and always will be to me the best game in the world.
I had only one superstition. I made sure to touch all the bases when I hit a home run.
As soon as I got out there I felt a strange relationship with the pitcher's mound. It was as if I'd been born out there. Pitching just felt like the most natural thing in the world. Striking out batters was easy.
I'll promise to go easier on drinking and to get to bed earlier, but not for you, fifty thousand dollars, or two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars will I give up women. They're too much fun.
Cobb is a prick. But he sure can hit. God Almighty, that man can hit.
Never let the fear of striking out get in your way.
Yesterday's home runs don't win today's games.
Who is richer? The man who is seen, but cannot see? Or the man who is not being seen, but can see?