Best 159 quotes in «horses quotes» category

We weren’t allies, but not being enemies was close enough for me.

We work all our lives to be who we become. And, it's who we become that determines what becomes of us.

What kind of a horse?" "A miraculous kind of horse

When gangs took over the [abandoned public land in Philadelphia] and the neighborhood took a turn for the worse, horses became a way of saving lives. By getting boys interested in raising a horse rather than killing another human being, these cowboys gave the youth something positive: father figures, focus, and the ability to stand tall.

When the striped pole slips by I slide low in the saddle and give Kali room to go. One moment she's bottled up, and the next she's a stream of copper, her chestnut mane smacking me hard in the face while her strides lengthen and everything becomes a droning rumble of hooves and wind.

Wild horses wouldn't draw it from you?

William: My brother has an appreciation of art, so I imagine the woman he chooses must be beautiful beyond the pale. Once he outgrows his current predilection with painting and accepts his family responsibilities, he'll need a wife who can move throughout society. She must have proper carriage and be a witty conversationalist. She should have excellent bloodlines as well, in the event of offspring. Emma: With the possible exception of a witty conversationalist, I believe you've described all the attributes of a racehorse.

Winter is our time. They shut up their cities for the cold months. They put their horses in stables and sit around great fires in enormous houses of stone. If you want a bearskin, do you attack in summer when it is strong and fast, or cut its throat as it sleeps?

Yeah, well. Don’t be that guy, Brady. Don’t be the guy who loves his horse too much.

Yet when books have been read and reread, it boils down to the horse, his human companion, and what goes on between them.

You can judge me all you want, but it's just ridiculous coz we're both part of the same universe. Let's just ride the horses into the meadow and let them roll in the delightful grass.

You seem to be trying to ride a pony named Trouble all the way to the border.

You taste better than bacon.

... when they hear hooves they look for zebras instead of horses

Why didn’t the others help you?” Daisy asked angrily, scrubbing the sleeve of her gown over her dripping face. “They were busy saving their own skins. Although,” Matthew added ruefully, “I would have thought I merited a little more importance than the horses.

Willie always speaks to me when he can, and treats me as his special friend. My ladies have promised that I shall never be sold, and so I have nothing to fear; and here my story ends. My troubles are all over, and I am at home; and often before I am quite awake, I fancy I am still in the orchard at Birtwick, standing with my old friends under the apple-trees.

With my heart thumping, I froze up. I didn't dance. I was born with two left feet and they only worked together in the saddle. "Come on," Casey urged and grabbed my hand. "I wore my steel-toe boots. You can stand on my feet for all I care.

Yes, it's worth it. The pain of sorrow is terrible and hard to bear, but the joy of love makes it worthwhile. p123

You've got ice between your legs, Meridon. All you ever want there is a horse.

A horse is as mighty as its rider.

A horse that loves and cares for a man was loved and cared for by a man!

A book about books is like a poem about poetry: Books are knowledge, paid for, all. Readers - horses in a stall. Stallions should always run. Lest they stale become, in turn. Running waters are most clear. In some books, you disappear – lose yourself, and track of time. How I wish that one was mine... Mine, to have, to write, to read... Mine, just like a flying steed. Mine, forever, - to improve. Would I then, of me, approve? I would not, I can't... myself. I'm but dust, swept off a shelf. Fly, can I, just 'til I'm settled, down, beside my flower, petalled.

According to horses, a good friend is someone who listens, appreciates your company and teases you, but is protective at the same time.

A horseman of the old school, a gentleman who never forgot to dip down and stake you when he win. He was more ashamed to be stingy than to be broke, so as long as he had two dollars you had one . . .

A horsefly can't do a horse much damage, but it can drive it wild anyway.

A Blessing Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota, Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass. And the eyes of those two Indian ponies Darken with kindness. They have come gladly out of the willows To welcome my friend and me. We step over the barbed wire into the pasture Where they have been grazing all day, alone. They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness That we have come. They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other. There is no loneliness like theirs. At home once more, They begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness. I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms, For she has walked over to me And nuzzled my left hand. She is black and white, Her mane falls wild on her forehead, And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear That is delicate as the skin over a girl's wrist. Suddenly I realize That if I stepped out of my body I would break Into blossom.

Any real, beautiful thing in this world shouldn't be tamed or claimed or broken. It should be allowed to be, worked with, not against, appreciated. Don't be afraid of the wild she has left. It makes her special.

As my mom used to say,"If wishes were horses, we'd be up to our eyeballs in shit.

As soon as I entered the house, my wife took me in her arms, and kissed me; at which, having not been used to the touch of that odious animal for so many years, I fell into a swoon for almost an hour. At the time I am writing, it is five years since my last return to England. During the first year, I could not endure my wife or children in my presence; the very smell of them was intolerable; much less could I suffer them to eat in the same room. To this hour they dare not presume to touch my bread, or drink out of the same cup, neither was I ever able to let one of them take me by the hand. The first money I laid out was to buy two young stone-horses, which I keep in a good stable; and next to them, the groom is my greatest favourite, for I feel my spirits revived by the smell he contracts in the stable. My horses understand me tolerably well; I converse with them at least four hours every day. They are strangers to bridle or saddle; they live in great amity with me and friendship to each other.

All right, shadow-priest, you've been spying — on what? What state secrets have you learned watching me groom these horses?' 'Only that they hate you, Daru. Every time your back was turned, they got ready to nip you — only you always seemed to step away at precisely the right moment-' 'Yes, I did, since I knew what they were intending. Each time.' 'Is this pride I hear? That you outwitted two horses?

Any real, beautiful thing in this world shouldn't be tamed or claimed or broken. It should be allowed to be, worked with, not against, appreciated. Don't be afraid of the wild she has left. It makes her special." - Cowboy McKennon Kelly to Cowgirl in Training Devon Brooke.

A stupid mule is still smarter than a good horse or a bad man.

Before he left Rome, Marcus had been in a fair way to becoming a charioteer, in Cradoc's sense of the word, and now desire woke in him, not to possess this team, for he was not one of those who much be able to say "Mine" before they can truly enjoy a thing, but to have them out and harnessed; to feel the vibrating chariot floor under him, and the spread reins quick with life in his hands, and these lovely, fiery little creatures in the traces, his will and theirs at one.

Dawn is breaking, sending pale fingers of cold light across the hills that surround the Harrisons’ farmyard. Jess is being difficult, rearing and trying to bolt away from the truck, and we’ve been at it for some time when Liam comes out of the house and sees our predicament. He marches across the yard, picks up a piece of cut-off hosepipe and walks up behind the pony. I see the look on Alec’s face as his dad approaches, and he’s not happy. Liam tells his son to “walk her up” and then cracks the mare around the rump with the piece of pipe when she plants her feet. The sound of the pipe hitting the pony echoes across the hills and rings in my ears. Jess starts to rear but earns another whack around the backside, so scrambles up the ramp and stands trembling in the truck. Alec quickly ties her up, his expression unreadable.

Bet you did not know that in Mexico they call a Palomino an Isabella. Or that George Washington's warhorse was an Arab named Magnolia. I sure as hell did not. Hey, Magnolia! Takes a mighty secure man to ride a horse into battle with a name like that; well, to ride a horse into battle at all.

Chance dug deep into the dirt, his front end rising like a speed boat accelerating through water. I grabbed the saddle horn, surprised by his enthusiasm, but I was just as anxious to run as he was. I gave him the reins to go.

Could I be jealous of the way he was touching my horse? Yep ... I was.

Don't cry for the horses That life has set free A million white horses Forever to be Don't cry for the horses Now in God's hands As they dance and they prance To a heavenly band They were ours as a gift But never to keep As they close their eyes Forever to sleep Their spirits unbound On silver wings they fly A million white horses Against the blue sky Look up into heaven You'll see them above The horses we lost The horses we loved Manes and tails flowing They Gallop through time They were never yours They were never mine Don't cry for the horses They will be back someday When our time has come They will show us the way

D’un tempérament courageux, prompt au galop, l’alezan brûlé au front étoilé n’était pas à son égard un simple cheval parmi d’autres. Ils entretenaient une amitié riche et complexe, révélatrice d’identité et de caractère particulier. C’est alors qu’il passait la brosse dure sur la robe du cheval que l’idée lui vint. Il se rappela avoir entendu quelquefois le Haut Chevalier appeler son noir rouanné Courroux ; Gurœv nommait sobrement son destrier à la robe gris souris Plume et Kardys le forestier appelait son chien Noiraud. Caressant de la main le front de l’équidé, Trys lui murmura : - Si je t’appelais Égide, d’accord ? Croisant son regard, il sembla à Trys que les yeux de l’hongre pétillaient de joie. Les oreilles dressées, naseaux frémissants, Égide poussa doucement son museau contre l’épaule de Trys en signe d’assentiment.

Do you give the horse his strength or clothe his neck with a flowing mane? Do you make him leap like a locust, striking terror with his proud snorting? He paws fiercely, rejoicing in his strength, and charges into the fray. He laughs at fear, afraid of nothing; he does not shy away from the sword. The quiver rattles against his side, along with the flashing spear and lance. In frenzied excitement he eats up the ground; he cannot stand still when the trumpet sounds.

Do you want to go make friends with it first? Dawn asked. Matthew,give Emily the snacks. Collins swallowed, looking alarmed. Um...what do you mean? Dawn smiled at him. So we can give them to the horse! The carrot sticks? Oh, Collins said, after a pause. You see, you should have told me we were bringing snacks for the horse. I thought they were for us. My bad. Wait, you ate all of them? Dawn asked, taking her canvas bag back from Collins peering inside. The apple too? And where are the sugar cubes? You're telling me we brought the sugar for a horse? Collins asked,incredulous. What does a horse need sugar for? I can't believe you just ate raw sugar cubes, Dawn said, shaking her head. They're sugar cubes! Collins said, his voice rising. What else are you supposed to do with them? And since when do horses get snacks?

Every dog has its day. Some even bite.

From horses we may learn not only about the horse itself but also about animals in general, indeed about ourselves and about life as a whole.

Everything changes except human behavior and its consequences.

First, if you’re fighting, you’ve lost already. Second, there’s no negotiating power in being right if it makes your horse wrong.

For a few heady weeks of the year the steppe in a binge throws out a wilderness of flowers that tangle your hooves and confuse your horse.

Galloping is trust and honesty between horse and rider and pure, amazing energy.

Face it, friends. For this journey, roads are optional.

For a human to win, it is not necessary for a horse to lose. You should not have to take things away from a horse or break him in fragments in order to train him; rather you should add to the horse. The goal should be making, not breaking.

For the first time, they were seeing the dream beneath the flesh. Karla stared at the pointed ears that had come from the Dea al Mon, the hands with sheathed claws that had come from the Tigre, the hooves peeking out from beneath the black gown that could have come from the centaurs or the horses or the unicorns. Most of all, she stared at the tiny spiral horn. The living myth. Dreams made flesh. But, oh, had any of them really thought about who the dreamers had been? No wonder the kindred love her. No wonder we've all loved her. Karla quietly cleared her throat to ask the question she suddenly hoped wouldn't be answered. "Who is going to war with Terreille?" "I am," Witch said.