A Quote by Bernard Hopkins

Hagler was a puncher-slugger. He'd box sometimes, but boxing wasn't his forte. His thing was relentless punishment and 'beat you.' — © Bernard Hopkins
Hagler was a puncher-slugger. He'd box sometimes, but boxing wasn't his forte. His thing was relentless punishment and 'beat you.'
Stylistically, Tommy Hearns is much better than Marvin Hagler - his technique and punching were better - but he just couldn't do it. He couldn't beat Marvin Hagler, and it's because styles make fights.
For my qualifying concert, Helmut Walcha would not coach Charles-Marie Widor or any American compositions. In his defense, his forte was Germanic composers, and his forte was really a fortissimo!
What made my matches against Borg and Connors interesting was, comparing it to boxing, it was like a puncher and a counter-puncher.
Conor knows how to fight and he knows how to box. He has been boxing professional boxers for his whole life, he has had almost 50 amateur boxing fights.
Hunter can write a melody and stuff like that, but his forte is lyrics. He can write a serviceable melody to hang his lyrics on, and sometimes he comes up with something really nice.
He appeared to enjoy beyond everything the sound of his own voice. I couldn't wonder at that, for it was mellow and full and gave great importance to every word he uttered. He listened to himself with obvious satisfaction and sometimes gently beat time to his own music with his head or rounded a sentence with his hand.
Each man is his own absolute lawgiver, the dispenser of glory or gloom to himself; the decreer of his life, his reward, his punishment.
Science is his forte, and omniscience his foible.
The (capital punishment) controversy passes the anarch by. For him, the linking of death and punishment is absurd. In this respect, he is closer to the wrongdoer than to the judge, for the high-ranking culprit who is condemned to death is not prepared to acknowledge his sentence as atonement; rather, he sees his guilt in his own inadequacy. Thus, he recognizes himself not as a moral but as a tragic person.
My first boxing memory is watching Marvin Hagler and Sugar Ray Leonard on television.
Sometimes I will slow down the beat for one bar on purpose, just to see if the rapper can adapt his flow and stay on beat.
And he don't know...that I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped up 4 wheel drive, carved my name into his leather seats. I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights, slashed a hole in all 4 tires...Maybe, next time he'll think before he cheats.
Rush Limbaugh's pathetic abuse of logic, his absurd pomposity, his relentless self-promotion, his ridiculous ego - now those, friends, are appropriate targets for satire.
The hardworking men and women of this country identify with my father. He is tough, and he is persevering. He is honest, and he is real. He's an optimist, and he's a relentless believer in America and all of her potential. He loves his family, and he loves his country with his heart and his soul.
He (Jackie Robinson) was the greatest competitor I've ever seen. I've seen him beat a team with his bat, his ball, his glove, his feet and, in a game in Chicago one time, with his mouth.
The mad sometimes drilled holes in their own heads to let the demons out. To relieve the pressure of thoughts they could no longer bear. Jude understood the impulse. Each beat of his heart was a fresh and staggering blow felt in the nerves behind his eyes and in his temples. Punishing evidence of life.
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