horse

A horse is the projection of peoples' dreams about themselves - strong, powerful, beautiful - and it has the capability of giving us escape from our mundane existence.

I feel lucky that I found my talent, not unlucky that I was born with a disability. When I'm on a horse, I'm more worried about what the riding hat is doing to my hair than what my bent legs and arms are doing. What riding has given me is respect.

I've always had that attitude about my career: it's something that I do, but it's not my whole life. I have a real life, a personal life: I've got a lot of chickens, I've got a horse, I've got a kitty-cat, I've got a lot of goats, I've got animals all over the place.

The profession of book writing makes horse racing seem like a solid, stable business.

When Henry Ford made cheap, reliable cars people said, 'Nah, what's wrong with a horse?' That was a huge bet he made, and it worked.

Some people regard private enterprise as a predatory tiger to be shot. Others look on it as a cow they can milk. Not enough people see it as a healthy horse, pulling a sturdy wagon.

We are horse folk, and that means more than we think it does.

...it wasn't for the love of a man that she took those chances, but for the love of a horse.

Once Errol righted himself into some semblance of horsemanship, they set off at an easy canter. That is, the other horses set off at a canter, while Errol's horse settled into a teeth-shattering trot. After a hundred paces he could feel Horace's backbone through the saddle. The other riders pulled ahead without a backward glance, leaving him to his four-footed torture.

There is no better place to heal a broken heart than on the back of a horse.

I__ looked around my room at the ribbons and sashes and rosettes hanging from the walls, at the photos of my ponies clearing the highest fences with me crouched in the saddle, a look of utter determination on my face. I__ made myself look hard at the pictures, at my legs swinging backwards over the fences, at my body lying low over my pony__ neck, my hands grasping at the reins as I turned them in mid-air. At the way that Teddy__ eyes were bulging as I pulled him around a tight turn, at the way the veins popped out on Buck__ lathered neck, at Springbok__ open mouth, dripping with foam. I__ looked hard at them all, and I hadn__ liked what I__ seen.

An English man-at-arms had his helmet split open and his skull with it, so that he rode wavering from the fight, blood pouring down his mail coat. His horse stopped a few paces from the turmoil and the man-at-arms slowly, so slowly, bent forward and then slumped down from his saddle. One foot was trapped in a stirrup as he died but his horse did not seem to notice. It just went on cropping the grass.

No mortal ear could have heard the kelpie passing through the night, for the great black hooves of it were as soundless in their stride as feathers falling.

In the sea, Corr__ clumsiness will disappear, his weight cradled by the saltwater. I don__ want to say good-bye. I blink to clear my vision and reach up. I pull off his halter. The ocean is his love and now, finally, he__l have it. I back out of the surf. There__ a thin, long wail. Corr takes a labored step away from the November sea. And another. He is slow, and the sea sings to us both, but he returns to me.

Typically, in politics, more than one horse is owned and managed by the same team in an election. There's always and extra candidate who will slightly mimic the views of their team's opposing horse, to cancel out that person by stealing their votes just so the main horse can win. Elections are puppet shows. Regardless of their rainbow coats and many smiles, the agenda is one and the same.

Just then, down through the last glimmer of twilight, stepping high and free, like a cloud, a moth, a ghost in the shape of a horse _ came the Silver Stallion. Wild, beautiful, and free as the wind he came, from one kingdom to another, Thowra

This is Doctor Norton. Who's calling?""Step N__olfe- the owner of the Emerald Cascade Ranch on Green Valley Road. I have a horse in labor and the baby's already coming out of the horse's ass.""You should of called sooner.

Who ever thought to put the word "hero" in heroin?