Quotes about horse
Hang not all your bells upon one horse!
All music is folk music. I ain't never heard a horse sing a song.
Marriage may often be a stormy lake, but celibacy is almost always a muddy horse pond.
Whenever the pain becomes too much, I saddle my horse and disappear in the forest... silent as desire, silent as myself. For I am not the cheerful gentleman with whom you are acquainted. Within this body is imprisoned a soul like a half-starved tiger in an iron cage, bellowing out its dreadful passins. All men seem mean and pretty to me, ingloriously lewd, travelling salesmen with their second-rate eroticism!
The Song Of Finis
At the edge of All the Ages
A Knight sate on his steed,
His armor red and thin with rust
His soul from sorrow freed;
And he lifted up his visor
From a face of skin and bone,
And his horse turned head and whinnied
As the twain stood there alone.
No bird above that steep of time
Sang of a livelong quest;
No wind breathed,
"Lone for an end!" cried Knight to steed,
Loosed an eager rein--
Charged with his challenge into space:
And quiet did quiet remain.
Heaven's Aspect, the Water's Colour
Heaven face water colour west lake good
Cloud creature all fresh
Gull egret idle sleep
Follow habit normal listen pipe string
Wind clear moon white incline proper night
One piece beautiful land
Who envy horse luan bird
Person in boat on then be immortal
Heaven's aspect, the water's colour- West Lake is good.
Creatures in the clouds all fresh,
Gulls and egrets idly sleep,
I follow my habit as of old, listen to pipes and strings.
The wind is clear, the moon is white, the night is almost perfect.
One piece of beautiful land,
Who would crave a steed or phoenix?
One man on his boat is just like an immortal.
'Is there anybody there?' said the Traveller,
Knocking on the moonlit door;
And his horse in the silence champed the grasses
Of the forest’s ferny floor:
And a bird flew up out of the turret,
Above the Traveller’s head:
And he smote upon the door again a second time;
'Is there anybody there?' he said.
But no one descended to the Traveller;
No head from the leaf-fringed sill
Leaned over and looked into his grey eyes,
Where he stood perplexed and still.
But only a host of phantom listeners
That dwelt in the lone house then
Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight
To that voice from the world of men:
Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stair,
That goes down to the empty hall,
Hearkening in an air stirred and shaken
By the lonely Traveller's call.
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I can make a General in five minutes, but a good horse is hard to replace.
What happened with the city of Troy proved that you must carefully look a gift horse in the mouth.
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