Everything one does in life even love occurs in an express train racing toward death. To smoke opium is to get out of the train while it is still moving. It is to concern oneself with something other than life or death.

I come from an ordinary family - my dad is a carpenter a roof-maker - and we've always loved racing together.

The only time I think about life beyond F1 is when I contemplate becoming a dad. But there's no way that's going to happen while I'm still racing. To be successful in F1 you need to be very selfish in lots of ways and you're away from home for long periods. That's not the kind of father I want to be.

You know Motorcycle Diaries has no incredible stories no sudden plot twists it doesn't play that way. It's about recognizing that instance of change and embracing it.

The only difference between me and others is that they think they can change something with cute little poems nice cards or embracing trees and being nice to little lapdogs.

Racing a thoroughbred grand prix car in front of a home crowd will be a surreal and mighty experience.

I once bought an old car back after I sold it because I missed it so much and I had forgotten that it never ran. It was a British racing car. You know because I just wanted it back. I could only remember what was good about it.

The GTO is such an important car because it's a racing car and a touring car and that's pretty unusual.

Indy car racing is much more aggressive.

When I was 15 my parents left town for a month. They hid the keys to the car but I found them. That month I drove my stepdad's Thunderbird Super Coupe into Manhattan every day and I would crank Cypress Hill as I flew around the city racing the taxis.