Horse Quotes - Page 54

The difference between an author and a horse is that the horse doesn't understand the horse dealer's language.

Remember that a painting - before it is a battle horse, a nude model, or some anecdote - is essentially a flat surface covered with colours assembled in a certain order.

Making movies is just like betting on horses at the racetrack.

...the floss-silk manes tossed up like the crest of a breaking wave....Light ran and glittered on them. They were obedient...you would have sworn...as the white horses of the wave crests are to pull of the moon.

Tell me what it is like to die," I answered. He dismounted from his horse, looking at me strangely the whole while. "You experience something similar every day," he said softly. "It is as familiar to you as bread and butter." "Yes," I said. "It is like every night when I fall asleep." "No. It is like every morning when you wake up.

I've always said I'm a good horse but I'm still an underdog.

This is the part of us that makes our brief, improbable little lives worth living: the ability to reach through our own isolation and find strength, and comfort, and warmth for and in each other. This is what human beings do. This is what we live for, the way horses live to run.

I speak French with timidity, and not flowingly--except when excited. When using that language I have often noticed that I have hardly ever been mistaken for a Frenchman, except, perhaps, by horses; never, I believe, by people.

It seemed a strange thing to him, when earth was earth and rain was rain, that scrawny pines should grow in the scrub, while by every branch and lake and river there grew magnolias. Dogs were the same everywhere, and oxen and mules and horses. But trees were different in different places.

[O]nce you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand." - The Skin Horse from The Velveteen Rabbit

The universal nature out of the universal substance, as if it were wax, now molds a horse, and when it has broken this up, it uses the material for a tree, then for a man, then for something else.

In the same spirit, when the automobile arrived, there were those that declared the horse to be the most perfect form of locomotion.

The Consul felt a pang. Ah, to have a horse, and gallop away, singing, to someone you loved perhaps, into the heart of all the simplicity and peace in the world; was that not like the opportunity afforded man by life itself? Of course not. Still, just for a moment, it had seemed that it was.

No, I'm not a horse better. Every once in a while somebody will give me a sure thing and of course it's not.

I have never seen such a perfectly formed animal. Beautiful and graceful like a gazelle, he burned hot and wild with the deserts of Egypt in his soul.

Behind me, I heard a young woman of 25 say, "If it weren’t for my horse, I wouldn’t have spent that year in college." Now, I'm gonna repeat that, because it bears repeating. "If it weren't for my horse..." as in, giddyup, giddyup, let's go — "I wouldn't have spent that year in college," which is a degree-granting institution. Don't think about that too long, or BLOOD will shoot out your NOSE!

The one thing I find the least romantic is taking a horse and carriage ride. I can't express enough how unhappy these horses are and how much pain and suffering they go through each day. Please do not ride [in horse-drawn carriages]. Take a beautiful walk together with your loved ones instead of bringing more pain to these beautiful animals.

Books on horse racing subjects have never done well, and I am told that publishers had come to think of them as the literary version of box office poison

American Rifleman and Field & Stream had ads for "varmint guns." Another varmint was a ground hog because a horse would be going along and he'd stick his foot in a ground hog hole and break his leg. So we were trying to prevent that, too. But we finally scared ourselves. We didn't realize we were nuts.

There is no greater feeling than hanging out with my dogs, or just walking around the land with our horses. My rescue ranch is is where I feel the most at peace and where I'm reminded of the simple things in life and let the chaos of my crazy work life fade away.

I decided early in graduate school that I needed to do something about my moods. It quickly came down to a choice between seeing a psychiatrist or buying a horse. Since almost everyone I knew was seeing a psychiatrist, and since I had an absolute belief that I should be able to handle my own problems, I naturally bought a horse.

I'm a horseback rider. I know how to use a whip.

I was told I make intelligent comics, and then I made a comic about a horse that pooped.

A pedestrian seems in this country to be a sort of beast of passage - stared at, pitied, suspected and shunned by everyone who meets him ... Every passing coachman called out to me: "Do you want to ride on the outside?" If I met only a farm worker on a horse he would say to me companionably "Warm walking sir," and when I passed through a village the old women in their bewilderment would let out a "God Almighty!

As a young girl I think I wanted to be a horse woman. I loved horses.