The whole secret of fencing consists but in two things, to give and not to receive.

Idolatry is the mother of all games.

Hunting is all that’s worth living for—all time is lost what is not spent in hunting—it is like the air we breathe—if we have it not we die—it’s the sport of kings, the image of war without its guilt.

Gambling is the child of avarice, the brother of iniquity, and the father of mischief.

Sport is the bloom and glow of a perfect health.

The true mission of American sports is to prepare young men for war.

The gods play games with men as balls.

A win always seems shallow: it is the loss that is so profound and suggests nasty infinities.

One great reason why many children abandon themselves wholly to silly sports and trifle away all their time insipidly is because they have found their curiosity baulked and their inquiries neglected.

If I played in New York, they’d name a candy bar after me.

Recreations should be as sauces to your meat, to sharpen your appetite unto the duties of your calling, and not to glut yourselves with them.

The fascination of shooting as a sport depends almost wholly on whether you are at the right or wrong end of a gun.

Courage and grace is a formidable mixture. The only place to see it is in the bullring.