These are my new shoes. They're good shoes. They won't make you rich like me, they won't make you rebound like me, they definitely won't make you handsome like me. They'll only make you have shoes like me. That's it.
Thus so wretched is man that he would weary even without any cause for weariness... and so frivolous is he that, though full of a thousand reasons for weariness, the least thing, such as playing billiards or hitting a ball, is sufficient enough to amuse him.
Trying to sneak a fastball past Hank Aaron is like trying to sneak the sunrise past a rooster.
What other people may find in poetry or art museums, I find in the flight of a good drive.
What's a good tournament for him? Winning it. He's good enough.