“I ain't got nothing against those Congs.”

“I Ain't Got No Quarrel With The VietCong...No VietCong Ever Called Me Nigger.”

“Inside of a ring or out, ain't nothing wrong with going down. It's staying down that's wrong.”

“Got No Where To Go But All Day To Get There”

“You lose nothing when fighting for a cause ... In my mind the losers are those who don't have a cause they care about.”

“The daughter wants to turn the past on its back like a turtle or a roach, leaving those legs walking futilely through air cheering on those starved and paralyzed years. The mother put her makeup on, got ready for work, while cigarettes burned down, one by one in the chipped, red ashtray. The daughter stood beside the blaring alarm clock and shook the mother's sleeping body who worked sixteen hours a day and called the daughter and son from pay phones between jobs. When the mother found the daughter on the lawn of the mental hospital playing Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star on her harmonica the mother couldn't believe it, because she was gone the years that led to it. When they finally came together, they came together as guilty mother and guilty daughter and found there was nothing there to trade.”

“This is the legend of Cassius Clay, The most beautiful fighter in the world today.He talks a great deal, and brags indeed-y, of a muscular punch that's incredibly speed-y.The fistic world was dull and weary,But with a champ like Liston, things had to be dreary.Then someone with color and someone with dash, Brought fight fans are runnin' with Cash.This brash young boxer is something to see And the heavyweight championship is his des-tin-y.This kid fights great; he’s got speed and endurance,But if you sign to fight him, increase your insurance.This kid's got a left; this kid's got a right,If he hit you once, you're asleep for the night.And as you lie on the floor while the ref counts ten,You’ll pray that you won’t have to fight me again.For I am the man this poem’s about,The next champ of the world, there isn’t a doubt.This I predict and I know the score,I’ll be champ of the world in ’64.When I say three, they’ll go in the third,10 months agoSo don’t bet against me, I’m a man of my word.He is the greatest! Yes!I am the man this poem’s about,I’ll be champ of the world, there isn’t a doubt.Here I predict Mr. Liston’s dismemberment,I’ll hit him so hard; he’ll wonder where October and November went.When I say two, there’s never a third,Standin against me is completely absurd.When Cassius says a mouse can outrun a horse,Don’t ask how; put your money where your mouse is!I AM THE GREATEST!”