It's hard to believe a kid hitting golf balls in the cow pastures of New Mexico could have accomplished what I have accomplished.

When I was in first grade, the kids called me 'fatso.' It hurt, but the way I overcame it was to outrun every kid in the class. So I developed a thick skin, and athletics became my way of performing and being accepted.

I want to be remembered for having a great love for my fellow man. Because, you know, I do.

When I drive into Augusta and down Magnolia Lane, there's just a spirit and nostalgia about it that you experience nowhere else. Why? Because it's the same place every year.

I've experienced poverty and plenty, and there's a lesson to be learned when you're brought up in poverty.

The good life, as it is popularly conceived, typically involves acquiring mastery in one's work, thus gaining for oneself better terms - or means to rewards, whether material, like wealth, or nonmaterial - an experience we may call 'prospering.'

There's all kinds of those moments in your life where either through a weird set of circumstances, or a song you hear, or a smell you smell, or one person says something totally out of the context without the meaning that you assigned to it, but you snap back to the way you were when you were 14 or 15. We all deal with that.

American government did not originate in any abstract theories about liberty and equality, but in the actual experience gained by generation after generation of English colonists in managing their own political affairs. The Revolution did not make a breach in the continuity of their institutional life.