The time your game is most vulnerable is when you're ahead; never let up.
Rod Laver
When you have the opportunity, you strike.
Each match is a huge effort from a physical point of view. You can only hit so many balls before your elbow or some part of your body is going to say, 'Hey, don't do that to me.'
Players who win on a clay surface are those who can control the ball, playing steadily and accurately from the back-court, keeping the ball in play and moving it around with changes of speed and spin, and resisting the temptation to over-hit.
The next point - that's all you must think about.
Funny thing about the volatile and biased French crowds. While they'd prefer to be cheering a countryman and giving his foreign opponent merry hell, if there was no Frenchman in the game, they'd always support a Continental player over an Englishman, an American, or an Australian.
There's a lot of ingredients go into being a good tennis player.
We were pretty darn good - fit and ready to play - but today's level is different. Those ground strokes are ever so much faster, coming back at you at a pretty good speed. Footwork-wise, you've got to be ready to hit that next shot. It's a tough time.
It can be a daunting prospect for any player to know that his opponent will never, ever quit.
Right through school, I was a handy cricketer, a batsman and a left-arm spinner who bowled leg breaks.
When Hoad and Rosewall were at their best, and I was a youngster, they had no qualms about saying, 'Hey kid, let's go and play.' That helped me to get up the ladder.
Camaraderie builds. We travelled together to Rome, Paris, Wimbledon, the U.S., lots of places. In a way, I miss it right now. My opponents were also my best friends.
As a tennis player, you have a record, and that is what counts. I feel like I enjoyed myself, and I'm proud of what I accomplished.
Yes, I hit with heavy top-spin, but when you look at the little rackets I played with, the Maxply Dunlop, you had to hit the very centre all the time. I had my share of miss-hits.
It occurred to me that it would benefit me to play without emotion - well, without emotion others could see, anyway. Card players profited from having a poker face so opponents wouldn't know how good or bad their hand was, and I figured a deadpan expression would work in tennis, too.
Forty years ago, the players were like a travelling circus - we went everywhere together and were pretty good friends.
I wasn't embarrassed that I'd had a stroke, but I just didn't want people to think I was milking it or looking for sympathy. It happened, and I dealt with it. Afterwards, I tried to do what I could for other people who had strokes, speaking at hospitals that treated stroke victims.
Looking back, in comparison, there wasn't that much that you could do with a wooden racket. In my day, the matches were certainly much less demanding physically.
When you've got your man down, rub him out.
I saw Kyrgios down in Australia. He played some very good tennis, won two or three matches, and has done the same here at Wimbledon. I think Australia's got a good prospect in Kyrgios.
I don't know much about Mauresmo apart from the fact she played great tennis. Is she a good technician? I don't know those parameters.
I competed hard in the heat of the battle, and there were a few occasions where I played my best in the top matches. As for the best ever? I don't think so.
I'm usually pretty good in the garden.
I don't want to get blase about being recognised. It's pretty amazing.
Tennis was a big part of my life from as far back as I can remember.
