I've read a lot of books on the laws of attraction, and in my

The words of Conor McGregor — “I’ve read a lot of books on the laws of attraction, and in my home, I have a big book on Muhammad Ali, which I’ve read because he is, like, a hero of mine, but other than that, no, I’m not a big reader.” — are not spoken in arrogance or dismissal of learning, but in truth and reverence. Beneath these words lies the voice of a warrior who values experience above theory, vision above volume, and faith above doubt. It is a statement that, though simple, reveals a philosophy of life: that belief, when deeply held, can shape destiny; and that heroes, once discovered, can awaken greatness within the heart. McGregor’s words are a reflection of a modern gladiator’s soul — one that seeks not endless knowledge, but the fire that knowledge can ignite.

When he speaks of the laws of attraction, McGregor touches upon one of humanity’s oldest and most mysterious teachings — the idea that thought creates reality, that the energy one gives to the universe returns in kind. The ancients spoke of this truth long before it had a name. The Greek philosopher Epictetus taught, “We are disturbed not by things, but by the views which we take of things.” In that same spirit, the law of attraction proclaims that a man’s outer world mirrors his inner one. McGregor, through his relentless self-belief and visualization of victory, has turned this philosophy into practice. What others call arrogance, he calls alignment. What others see as chance, he calls creation. His victories — in the cage and in life — are born not merely of training, but of vision made real through will.

But the truest insight in his words lies not only in what he reads, but in why he reads. His devotion to the story of Muhammad Ali, whom he calls a hero, reveals the lineage of inspiration that passes from one generation of warriors to another. Ali, too, was a man who shaped his destiny through the power of belief. He declared himself “The Greatest” long before the world agreed — and in doing so, he forced the universe to conform to his conviction. Like Ali, McGregor sees in himself not just a fighter of flesh, but an idea made manifest: that belief, when fierce enough, can make the impossible inevitable. His reading, then, is not for leisure, but for fuel — for the fire that drives men to carve their names into the stone of time.

The origin of this mindset stretches back to the dawn of heroes. The ancient warriors of Greece and Rome read not for study, but for spirit — reciting the epics of Homer, not to memorize history, but to become it. They filled their minds with the deeds of Achilles, Hector, and Aeneas, not as idle tales, but as living examples of glory, perseverance, and destiny. McGregor stands in that same tradition. He reads of Muhammad Ali as the ancients once sang of Achilles — not to know him, but to embody him. For the true reader is not one who consumes words, but one who becomes the wisdom behind them.

And yet, there is humility in McGregor’s admission: “I’m not a big reader.” He does not pretend to be a scholar, nor does he dismiss those who are. His wisdom is of a different kind — the wisdom of action. To him, knowledge untested is a sword left in its sheath. The true battlefield of understanding is not the mind alone, but life itself. His reading is focused and purposeful, aimed at strengthening the heart, not cluttering the intellect. Like the samurai who studies not endless scrolls but the single art of the blade, McGregor’s learning is narrow yet deep — drawn from the texts that align with his soul.

The parallel between Muhammad Ali and McGregor is not of imitation but of inheritance. Ali was a poet in motion, a man who turned his belief into prophecy. McGregor, too, has crafted his career as a performance of destiny — his confidence, his bravado, his rise from poverty to legend, all echo the rhythm of the same eternal story: the man who dares to declare his greatness before the world is ready to hear it. Both men understood the law of faith — that one must see the victory long before others believe it possible. Their lives, separated by generations, form a single thread of defiance against doubt, a living testament to the power of self-creation.

The lesson in these words is both humbling and empowering: it is not how much you read, but what you absorb and live that defines your wisdom. The great truths of life do not hide in countless pages but in the few that awaken the soul to action. Read what moves you. Study what strengthens your will. Find heroes whose fire kindles your own. Then, as McGregor and Ali did, transform that inspiration into motion, into struggle, into triumph. Knowledge, when hoarded, grows dusty; but when lived, it becomes legacy.

So, let these words of Conor McGregor be remembered not as a confession of ignorance, but as a declaration of purpose. For true greatness does not lie in knowing all things, but in knowing oneself — in finding that one truth, one passion, one belief that sets your heart ablaze and your spirit unyielding. Read if you must, but more importantly, become what you read. Like Ali, like McGregor, shape your life through vision, discipline, and courage — and when the world doubts your dreams, remember: belief, once spoken with conviction, becomes prophecy.