This whole scene is very strange. It's a very strange town and a very strange business, and it has a tendency to creep me out.

I've always been kind of a loner. Continue to be. So, in that sense, Ryan and I are the same. I played football in Texas, but I didn't really hang out with the jocks. I did honors courses, but I didn't hang out with those kids, either. I sort of had my own group I hung with occasionally, but I've always been kind of by myself.

I found out right off the bat that those guys are f------ crazy, and they will kill you. I was practicing with them, and this monster dropped his pants in the middle of the field and started pissing. I realized then: I can't do this. I might die.

In this world nothing is certain but death and taxes.

It's against type in the sense of my background, but it's with type in the sense that I am a loner who's new to this business and sceptical about a lot of it.

He that speaks ill of the mare will buy her