I don’t feel sorry for myself, Beck. Lots of people have shitty parents and roaches in the cabinets and stale, raw Pop-Tarts for dinner and a TV that barely works and a dad who doesn’t...

It’s interesting, isn’t it? . . . the chandelier . . . it reminds me of mushroom soup.

I fold my hands under my head and tell the books all about you. They listen, Beck. I know it sounds crazy, but they do.

Lou reluctantly drew back, still holding Joe, and placed his soft lips on Joe’s own. Existence reacted to their reunion. Immediately, it was as if two halves became whole once again. The sky flashed colors...

Joe McCarthy and his Senate hearings were like witch-hunts.

Joe is 3/4ths of a joke. 75% of politicians are jokes too, only the punchlines are the voters, and that kind of humor I just don’t find funny.

I’m always gonna be Joe Namath, and I’m not running from that.

A tiny bit. It’s strange. You’re writing a letter to someone who’s never going to read it, so it kind of frees you up a bit.

First fuckin’ time you smiled at me in my bed, that’s when it happened,” he murmured.

I am the astronaut of boxing. Joe Louis and Dempsey were just jet pilots. I’m in a world of my own.

Your lips were made for mine, Beck. You are the reason I have a mouth, a heart.

Joe Frazier got hit more than me – and he doesn’t have Parkinson’s.

In the cage, you feel loved, not trapped. Just like me.

Life equates to being fairly simple at times. Although we have the tendency and unbelievable ability to complicate things. So I suggest we go to the basics. Do unto others as you would have others...