There is never enough horsepower......just not enough traction.
Yesterday's History. Tomorrow's a Mystery. So live for today.
Horsepower sells cars, torque wins races
If you don't go do what you wanna do, you're just bullshitting yourself.
My proudest moments are beating Ferrari for the World Championship in 1965, and working with Ford to win Le Mans in 1966 and 1967.
I never made a damn dime until I started doing what I wanted.
In 1964, when Lee Iacocca said, 'Shelby, I want you to make a sports car out of the Mustang,' the first thing I said was, 'Lee, you can't make a race horse out of a mule. I don't want to do it.' He said, 'I didn't ask you to make it; you work for me.'
Driving race cars was an avenue for me to learn how to build my own car, and that was my ambition all along.
The reason I moved to California the first time was to build the Cobra. I thought it was stupid to have a 1918 taxicab engine in what Europeans like to call a performance car when a little American V-8 could do the job better.
The day you were born, it was already written down the day you're gonna check out. Now, I'm not gonna throw myself under a truck, but I'm not gonna worry about when I die. I'm ready to move on when that day comes.
Thank god there's no 48-hour race anywhere in the world, because chances are nobody could beat Porsche in a 48 hour race. They're probably the only cars in the world that would stand up for something like that.
I don't design cars. I'm not a designer. I know what I desire to be built, I know what the end result is, the horsepower, the competition we'll be working against - but I leave it to the people who work with me to put it all together. I don't do anything.
I love raising animals. I look at animals as more perfect human beings. I can relate to an animal.
Porsche and BMW drivers are arrogant.
What I wanted to do was build an automobile.
I'm not going to take this defeatist attitude and listen to all this crap any more from all these people who have nothing except doomsday to predict.
It was fun to blow off a Porsche with a 3900 donkey [the 1965 Shelby GT350 Mustang].
Racing has reached the point where it is pricing the young driver, no matter his talent, out of the game.
I don't think I'm a celebrity. I'm just a guy from east Texas who loves cars and airplanes.
Any man that eats Chili and Cornbread can't be all bad
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