If I Were To Say, 'god, Why

I Know I Could Never Forgive Myself If I Elected To Live Without Humane Purpose, Without Trying To Help The Poor And Unfortunate, Without Recognizing That Perhaps The Purest Joy In Life Comes With Trying To Help Others.

If I Don't Ask "why Me?" After My Victories, I Cannot Ask "why Me?" After My Setbacks And Disasters.

There Were Times When I Asked Myself Whether I Was Being Principled Or Simply A Coward.... I Was Wrapped In The Cocoon Of Tennis Early In Life, Mainly By Blacks Like My Most Powerful Mentor, Dr. Robert Walter Johnson Of Lynchburg, Virginia. They Insisted That I Be Unfailingly Polite On The Court, Unfalteringly Calm And Detached, So That Whites Could Never Accuse Me Of Meanness. I Learned Well. I Look At Photographs Of The Skinny, Frail, Little Black Boy That I Was In The Early 1950s, And I See That I Was My Tennis Racquet And My Tennis Racquet Was Me. It Was My Rod And My Staff.

You Really Are Never Playing An Opponent. You Are Playing Yourself.

You've Got To Make A Lot Of Sacrifices And Spend A Lot Of Time If You Really Want To Achieve With This Sport, Or In Any Sport, Or In Anything Truly Worthwhile.