I haven't got any friends on the track when I have my helmet on but whenever I take it off, I am a normal person at the end.

The moment I prefer is the moment I put on the helmet, that everyone is leaving the pit lane, that I'm alone with the car and there it feels good. You don't have any feelings anymore; it's just racing and this I enjoy.

I could be walking down the street one minute and get a handshake and then get spat on the next. I'm never sure whether to wear gloves or a helmet.

I get asked one question a lot: 'What celebrity encounter would render you starstruck?' The answer is simple - anyone who's ever strapped on a Redskins helmet, much less coached them to three Super Bowls.

'Mars Needs Moms' was motion capture, where you walk into a space that's essentially a black box with cameras everywhere. It was so technical. You have these mandibles with cameras on your face and a helmet, and you have to hit certain marks. You couldn't shoot this stuff without the green-screen aspect.

Pretty much all the drivers I get on with, at least to say 'Hi' and have a conversation. But when the helmet's on, you don't care who it is. You have no sympathy: someone blows an engine in front of you, if it means you gain a position, then you're smiling.

I know that I'll joke around to the last minute I get in the car. But once the helmet's on - it's sort of a cliche, but it's true - it's quite symbolic that that is 'go time,' and I'm ready to have some fun and be bad while I do it.

Do I wear a helmet? Ugh. I do when I'm riding through a precarious part of town, meaning Midtown traffic. But when I'm riding on secure protected lanes or on the paths that run along the Hudson or through Central Park - no, I don't wear the dreaded helmet then.

When I put my helmet on, I'm ultra competitive, talking trash.

I think in a lot of ways, I handle the leadership role a little different than others. I'm not going to rah-rah or slap you across the helmet or push you. I'm going to talk to you.

I visited a scientist who had a helmet with magnetic fields controlled by computer sequences that could profoundly affect your mood and your perceptions.

When I started competing, I was so broke that I had to tie my helmet with a piece of string. On one jump, the string snapped, and my helmet carried on farther than I did. I may have been the first ski jumper ever beaten by his gear.

I look my best when I take my helmet off after a long motorcycle ride. I have a glow and a bit of helmet hair.

I don't want to be the king, 'I don't need that, I want to race even without the helmet, I am the king.' I am not like that. I just want to make things better for the drivers and for the safety.

If I had my accident maybe 10 years ago I wouldn't be here now. The technology we have now, the helmets, can save your life.

Helmet was joined to helmet, and spear to spear, and jewels, baggage, and elephants without number went with them, and you would have said it was a host that none could understand.

I wear my Viking helmet because the horns define how sharp my brains are. If you try to rub me the wrong way, I will stick you with both of my horns.

I remember 'Battlestar Galactica' shot at the college that my dad taught at. I remember trying on a Cylon helmet. I think I was 6 or 7 years old.

I tried the Xenith helmet later in my career and immediately wished I had done it earlier. It was comfortable, secure, and allowed me to perform without distractions.

Super-envious of the fact that Daft Punk can wear robot helmets and be one of the most famous bands in the world, while also understanding that will never be my situation.

I bought myself a bike in isolation and a helmet and I love it. It's built my confidence up because not everyone is confident in exercise.

More and more these days what I find myself doing in my stories is making a representation of goodness and a representation of evil and then having those two run at each other full-speed, like a couple of PeeWee football players, to see what happens. Who stays standing? Whose helmet goes flying off?

I've put on a helmet more times than I've buckled a seatbelt.

Football has always been violent. In the early days of the game, they didn't wear hard helmets. They wore soft helmets, which were just designed to protect the ears. In the '40s and '50s they began to introduce hard helmets, which provided much more protection against things like skull fractures.

I've had knee trouble, and I worry about my shoulder, but I think my weakest link is my head. A helmet can only do so much, and I have seen the effects of brain injuries. That is a big fear. I think everyone's weakest link is their brain because it's their most fragile link.

I've never heard Daft Punk; I've never heard a track of theirs in my life. They're the two guys with motorcycle helmets on?

I've seen descriptions of advanced TV systems in which a simulation of reality is computer-controlled; the TV viewer of the future will wear a special helmet. You'll no longer be an external spectator to fiction created by others, but an active participant in your own fantasies/dramas.

I like the Nova Corps; I just don't like Nova that much! He's okay, you know? I just don't like that helmet!

The brain is suspended in a kind of thick jelly inside the skull, and a helmet can't keep it from sloshing around. If you hit your head hard enough, the brain goes bashing against the walls of the skull.

If chronic bashing of the head could destroy a boxer's brain, couldn't it also destroy a football player's brain? Surely someone in the history of football had thought to look for dementia pugilistica. Unlike boxers, football players wear helmets, but a helmet can't fully protect the head from damaging impact.

Scarily, football helmets, which do a fine job of protecting against scalp laceration and skull fracture, do little to prevent concussions and may even exacerbate them, since even as the brain is rattling around inside the skull, the head is rattling around inside the helmet.