Quotes About Competition

Street hockey is great for kids. It's energetic, competitive, and skilful. And best of all it keeps them off the street.

Give blood. Play hockey.

Concerning football playing, I protest to you it may rather be called a friendly kind of fighting, rather than recreation.

Tennis begins with love.

Chlorine: the breakfast of champions!

Know ye not that they which run in a race run all, but one receiveth the prize?

I don't want tips from the kitty. I'm in the big game with the big players. My experience I can give you in a nutshell, and I didn't dream it in a dream either. Dog eat dog. In brief: from now on the best of everything is good enough for me.

Why is there only one ball for 22 players? If you gave a ball to each of them, they'd stop fighting for it.

My computer kept beating the pants off me at chess, until I discovered that it was no match against me at kickboxing.

Competition brings out the best in products and the worst in man.

There are two types of fisherman - those who fish for sport and those who fish for fish.

When you're on top of the world, every motherf*cker wants to get a piece of your *ss.

competition policy should embody explicit distributional concerns. It

When the archer shoots for no particular prize, he has all his skills; when he shoots to win a brass buckle, he is already nervous; when he shoots for a gold prize, he goes blind, sees two targets, and is out of his mind. His skill has not changed, but the prize divides him. He cares! He thinks more of winning than of shooting, and the need to win drains him of power.

The great Chinese sage Tranxu puts it marvelously: "When the archer shoots for nothing, he has all his skill. When he shoots for a brass buckle, he is already nervous. When he shoots for a prize of gold, he goes blind. He's out of his mind. He sees two targets. His skill has not changed. But the prize divides him. He cares. He thinks more of winning than of shooting. And the need to win drains him of power.

Frederick runs hard. But the fastest boys are greyhounds, harvested from all over the nation for their speed and eagerness to obey, and they seem to Werner to be running more fervently, more conclusively, than they have before. They are impatient to find out what will happen if someone is caught.

Membership in the State Youth becomes mandatory. The boys in Werner's Kameradschaften are taught parade maneuvers and quizzed on fitness standards and required to run sixty meters in twelve seconds. Everything is glory and country and competition and sacrifice. Live faithfully, the boys sing as they troop past the edges of the colony. Fight bravely and die laughing.

In 1979 Griselda Drown was a senior volleyballer at Boise High, a terrifically tall girl with trunky thighs, slender arms and a volleyball serve that won an Idaho State Championship despite T-shirts claiming it was a team effort.

Wine was served during the meal (rich and heavy, it was usually diluted with water), but the real drinking began once the food had been cleared away. This was the commissatio—a ceremonial drinking competition at which goblets had to be drained in a single gulp. Healths were drunk. This was the time for conversation and debate, which might last well into the evening, and was the Roman equivalent to the Greek symposium.

A great center for gladiatorial combats, it boasted a fine amphitheater

Cicero could not boast a long line of noble ancestors, as his colleagues and competitors constantly did

The architect, Peter Arens who is the monstrous carbuncle architect, not merely did his design which had won a public competition never get built but his practice suffered financially for some years.

Almost two hundred thousand books are published in the UK every year and although some of them will have the advantage of a well-known author attached, the vast majority have just two or three words on a surface measuring no more than six by nine inches to sell themselves. Titles have to be short, smart and meaningful, easy to read, easy to remember and original. That's asking a lot.

That wasn't bad," Tom said. "Almost as good as Alex." "You've got to be kidding," Jack growled. "Alex would have blown them up or forced them off the road. Just a shame I forgot my hand grenade." "Next time," Tom said.