Exercise should be regarded as tribute to the heart.

To enjoy the glow of good health, you must exercise.

The way to know about championship quality is to learn from champions, and that I did; studying them with professional purpose during my time in the ring and from habitual interest afterward.

A boxer must exercise and develop every part of his body.

A concave chest means that your diaphragm is sagging.

Ever since boyhood I've made a religion of keeping in shape by regular, conscientious exercise.

Handball, swimming, running, jumping, basketball, and boxing were as much a part of me as breathing.

I did six years of planning to win the championship from Jack Dempsey.

In youth, we get plenty of exercise through games and running around, but as middle life approaches, we settle down, literally and figuratively.

My own ambition in the ring had always been skillful boxing, speed and defense - on the order of Mike Gibbons.

Never eat less than four hours before boxing. Then eat only lightly.

One half-conscious thought was burned in my mind: stay on your feet.

The man who has allowed his body to deteriorate cuts a pitiful figure - chest collapsed, stomach protruding.

Though I was not a belligerent kid, I do not think I ever passed up a good opportunity to fight.

A boxer's diet should be low in fat and high in proteins and sugar. Therefore you should eat plenty of lean meat, milk, leafy vegetables, and fresh fruit and ice cream for sugar.

As a West Side kid fooling around with boxing gloves, I had been, for some reason of temperament, more interested in dodging a blow than in striking one.

Fat is one of the chief enemies of the heart because it has to be plentifully supplied with blood and thus needlessly increases the pumping load that the heart must sustain.

If all human lives depended upon their usefulness - as might be judged by certain standards - there would be a sudden and terrific mortality in the world.

Normally, I could hit hard enough, as anyone who studied my fights might have known. But the impression was that I was essentially defensive, the very reverse of a killer, the prize fighter who read books, even Shakespeare.

Upon awakening in the morning, I wondered if the proceedings of the night before had been a dream. It was hard to believe that I was the world's heavyweight champion.