I'm addicted to working. I mean, I have a list of 100 countries I want to play in. I'm basically killing myself by travelling so much, for no reason whatsoever.
For the born traveller, travelling is a besetting vice. Like other vices, it is imperious, demanding its victim's time, money, energy and the sacrifice of comfort.
I've traveled more this year than any other living human being, and if I'd traveled any more I wouldn't be living.
I'd been round the world a hundred times and had started to forget where I'd been. I knew I'd been there: it said it on the tour map. I could remember the name of the city but I couldn't remember what it was like - it was a massive blur.
I wouldn't like to travel at all. I've been too much around.
Snooker's only popular in China now. Well China's OK to go to once or twice a year but to go and play six or seven tournaments there is too much.
Travel' is the name of a modern disease which became rampant in themid-fifties and is still spreading. The disease - its scientific name is travelitis furiosus - is carried by a germ called prosperity.
I forced myself to go visit Asia four times a year.
When you get to your third millionth frequent flyer mile, I think something snaps in your brain.
