Best 155 quotes in «riding quotes» category

When my boy arrived in this life, on this planet, it was completely a new dimension of experience for me and my wife. I'm still riding on the wave of that experience.

When riding, ask yourself what will my horse get out of it if I get what I want? Many times, human nature is to take and to not give anything back.

When riding my old Harley a ninety per at midnight down the Via Roma in Naples, I kept one consolation firmly in mind: If anything goes wrong, I'll never have time to regret it.

When you're riding a bike you're more connected to the outdoors and to other people than you are when you are stuck in your car.

Writing itself is a bad enough trade, rightly held up to ridicule and contempt by the greater part of mankind, and especially by those who do real work, plowing, riding, sailing

When you've got the Daytona 500 out there at stake and everything riding on the line, guys go for it, and the guys that go for it are the ones that are either going to win or they're going to wreck.

When you were riding on the crest of a wave, youwere most likely to be missing out on something.

Words had started swimming off the page, circling my head, the letters doing one-eighties as if they were riding skateboards.

You learn to cope with whatever you have to cope with. I spent my childhood in New York, riding on subways and buses. And you know what you learn if you're a New Yorker? The world doesn't owe you a damn thing.

You learn so many different skills on the show «Merlin». You're constantly asked to do green-screen, horse riding, comedy scenes, dramatic scenes, everything. The ability and the skill to adapt under a tight schedule is one that I'll definitely take away.

Your servant here, he has been told to say it clear, to say it cold: It's over, it ain't going any further And now the wheels of heaven stop you feel the devil's riding crop Get ready for the future: it is murder

You're not built for riding, either," Horace added. "I'd say more saddle sore than homesick." Svenal sighed ruefully, shifting his buttocks for the twentieth time to find a more comfortable spot. "It's true," he said. "I've been discovering parts of my backside I never knew existed.

after Ernest Hemingway a road. a sign. Like a yellow kite flying in the sky last week the old bookmark Cul-de-sac. pull away wrong turn Window open a song adrift among the grass buttoned white shirt Sweat absorbed vest back to back Stars on the highway a black gap closes Wild strawberries in red.

A life fueled by passions is like riding on the back of a dragon.

Asking someone else to drive your sports car is like asking someone else to kiss your girlfriend.

Among all the machines, motorcar is my favorite machine.

Flying, with your love, shining, with your love, riding, with your love. I feel like I'm on top of the world with your love.

I am so obsessed with the cars that sometimes I feel like my heart is not a muscle, it's an engine.

I am emotional about engines, if you hurt my car, you hurt my heart.

I am a poet and I love riding a motorcycle!

I am a poet and I love riding motorcycle!

If you happen to be out at night on the bike path without a light, ring your bell constantly. No bell? Then sing "Hotel Yorba" on a continuous loop, loud enough to warn the unseen.

It truly is an odd thing we bikers do, riding through miserable conditions like this. We don’t invite them or look for them, surely, but when they are upon us we relish the challenge and silently claim the superiority of adventure over comfort, wilderness over warmth, discovery over certainty.

On a motorcycle, I learned to let go of the vast uncertainty and focus instead on what is in front of me: the surface of the road and the curve of it, the vehicles in front and behind, the wind and the rain and the wildlife peeking out of the grass. There are times when I struggle to manage every last detail as it whips pat me, to hold on to past and present and future simultaneously, but they're not mine to understand, or control. I have to remind myself, again and again, that only this is mine: this moment, this heartbeat, this decision.

Mountains slowly change, but they will always be there, defining Freedom.

I’ve no intention of sitting by the fire on such a beautiful day,” Loki sad. “Then let us walk in the woods.” “Walk? Wouldn’t you rather ride with me?” “I couldn’t keep up.” “No,” he said, grasping her elbow gently. “With me. On Heror.” He whistled loudly and Heror turned and walked toward them. A shiver of fear frosted her skin. She was uncomfortable on horseback - preferred her feet on the ground-let alone a fast powerful beast like Heror with Loki at the reins. “I’m not sure…” “Didn’t you say you would keep me company? Come.” “Must we go very fast?” Loki laughed his wild laugh. “Of course we must!” With swift grace, he mounted Heror, then put down his hand for her. “Come, Aud. Don’t be frightened. You may trust me.” Trust Loki? Aud almost laughed. She wondered if Vidar would appreciate her actions when she told him this evening. “Very well,’ she said. She tied her skirts around her hips and, reaching up, allowed Loki to help her onto Heror’s back. “Hold on tight,” Loki said, slapping her thigh playfully. Aud needed no prompting. She locked her arms about his waist, her hands tight over his hollow stomach. No warmth emanated from his body. His black hair caught against her cheek and lip. She screwed her eyes tightly closed. Heror need little encouragement from Loki. Almost as soon as they were settled, he sped off like lightning. Aud cracked open one eye to see where they were going, but hurriedly closed it when the branches of the wood loomed close enough to terrify her and the shadows between the trees flew past like wild ghosts. She tightened her grip on Loki’s ribs wishing they were not so narrow and cool. From time to time, she could feel his body shake with mad laughter. Their journey, while it probably only lasted twenty minutes, seemed interminable as she willed him and willed him to slow down. Finally she felt Loki pull on Heror’s reins. The horse slowed to a walk, and she ventured to open her eyes. They had left the woods and were entering a sunlit field of waving grass, daisies and orange hawkweed. Heror stopped, they dismounted and Loki sent the horse off to cool down. Aud’s legs were shaking too much to stand so she sank into the grass, feeling the warm sunshine fill her hair. Loki sat next to her and began idly to pick daisies. “Did you enjoy our ride, Aud?” “No,” she answered, taking a deep breath and stilling her trembling hands. “I’ll try harder on the way home,” He said reaching over to twine a daisy in her hair.

My power is everywhere propping up illusions, but I'm taking it back by letting go of them & just riding the stallion into wonderland. Let's see what you've got to say about the darkness in the mountains, I wonder if you know you can just turn it all to light. As we ride through the valley can you see the same water flowing that I do, or do dust clouds conceal it and block up your nose & throat? You're so thirsty for the end of the journey but I don't want you to miss the magic on the road.

Once again I am riding my bike on the streets of loneliness. Your thoughts are the anchor that make me ride fast yet not lose my balance. You had promised me that you would never leave me alone. But I do know that the love that you have bestowed on me is more precious than the biggest pearls discovered by the sailors on their voyages of prosperity. I too sail on myriad voyages in the ocean of my life. And your love holds my ship steady on those turbulent waters of life when the moon even does not show her face to me!

Riding is my hallowed place.

Ride Big, Ride Long, Ride Free.

Riding a motorcycle is a tribute, a tip of the helmet as it were, to our rugged ancestors who challenge us through the dust of centuries, proof that we have succumbed to the safety nets of civilization.

Riding a motorcycle takes vengeance on half-shut eyes, deadened ears, and dormant thoughts.

Riding is a sacred place.

Riding that ridge between reason and recklessness, stillness and speed, is the first, maybe the most important, thing I learned about motorcycles.

Untethered.

The center-point of riding a motorcycle, and of life itself, is Freedom.

There is a delicate ridge one must ride between fear and reason on a motorcycle—lean too far in either direction and there will be consequences.

Saw about a dozen and a half bikers pull into a gas station. After watching them stop at the pumps, start up their bikes and ride to the front of the convenience store, stop, then fire up their bikes again and take off, I’ve come to conclusion that the most time consuming activity bikers engage in is finding neutral.

Take care of your car in the garage, and the car will take care of you on the road.

The road listens. It believes in you.

When Freedoms Live, We Ride; When We Ride, Freedoms Live.

As time went on, I did campaign to lighten the character a little bit, to introduce some romance into the episodes, outside activities, horse riding and fencing and mountaineering.

A horse will never tire of a rider who possesses both tact and sensitivity because he will never be pushed beyond his possibilities.

A person riding a unicycle on a tightrope doesn't worry about being likeable; they're doing something amazing that very few people can do.

As one does a bear riding a bicycle. One sees it so rarely. (Spoken by Volger, on Deryn)

Actually, when I was little I even dreamed about riding a black cat.

A few minutes later, she was once again riding her own horse. Deciding to take the lead, she nudged the mare into a trot, and as she passed Brodick and Ramsey, she called out, "You used trickery." "Yes, I did," he admitted. "Are you angry with me?" She laughed again. "I don't get angry. I get even." Unbeknownst to her, she had just recited the Buchanan creed.

At an early age I told myself I would never quit skating, I would never quit riding BMX and being a motorcycle junkie. I just can't stop doing those things.

Each leaf that brushed his face deepened his sadness and dread. Each leaf he passed he'd never pass again. They rode over his face like veils, already some yellow, their veins like slender bones where the sun shone through them. He had resolved himself to ride on for he could not turn back and the world that day was as lovely as any day that ever was and he was riding to his death.

At the risk bragging, one of the things I'm best at is riding coattails. Behind every successful man is me, smiling and taking partial credit.