Horse Quotes - Page 30

• That's the thing about the internet. It's really good at giving you pointless facts like how many horses a star owns, but not important things like how to invade his trailer.

  Janette Rallison

  Stars, Giving, Important

  Janette Rallison (2009). “Just One Wish”, p.49, Penguin

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• New rule: every fantasy author who doesn't treat horses like tireless hairy motorcycles automatically gets a Hugo.

  Jim C. Hines

  Motorcycle, Fantasy, Treats

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• I would rediscover the secret of great communications and great combustions. I would say storm. I would say river. I would say tornado. I would say leaf. I would say tree. I would be drenched by all rains, moistened by all dews. I would roll like frenetic blood on the slow current of the eye of words turned into mad horses into fresh children into clots into curfew into vestiges of temples into precious stones remote enough to discourage miners. Whoever would not understand me would not understand any better the roaring of a tiger.

  Aime Cesaire

  Children, Rain, Communication

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• This one isn’t just any old horse. There’s a nobility in his eye, a regal serenity about him. Does he not personify all that men try to be and never can be? I tell you, my friend, there’s divinity in a horse, and specially in a horse like this. God got it right the day he created them. And to find a horse like this in the middle of this filthy abomination of a war, is for me like finding a butterfly on a dung heap. We don’t belong in the same universe as a creature like this.

  Michael Morpurgo

  War, Butterfly, Eye

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• Want a sugar cube?" he asks in his old seductive voice. That's how we met, with Finnick offering me sugar. Surrounded by horses and chariots, costumed and painted for the crowds, before we were allies. Before I had any idea what made him tick. The memory actually coaxes a smile out of me. "Here, it improves the taste," he says in his real voice, plunking three cubes into my cup.

  Suzanne Collins

  Memories, Real, Offering

  Suzanne Collins (2010). “Mockingjay (The Hunger Games, Book 3)”, p.158, Scholastic Inc.

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• 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.

  Julie Garwood

  Riding, Used, Creeds

  Julie Garwood (2002). “Ransom”, p.313, Simon and Schuster

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• What will die with me the day I die? What pathetic or frail image will be lost to the world? The voice of Macedonio Fernandez, the image of a bay horse in a vacant lot on the corner of Sarrano and Charcas, a bar of sulfur in the drawer of a mahogany desk?

  Jorge Luis Borges

  Voice, Bars, Sulfur

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• Those who get in the way of love's path will be kicked by horses. ~Kyoya

  Bisco Hatori

  Way, Path, Way Of Love

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• I see what I want of Love... I see horses making the meadow dance, fifty guitars sighing, and a swarm of bees suckling the wild berries, and I close my eyes until I see our shadow behind this dispossessed place... I see what I want of people: their desire to long for anything, their lateness in getting to work and their hurry to return to their folk... and their need to say: Good Morning.

  Mahmoud Darwish

  Morning, Eye, Guitar

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• Hauntings are memes, especially pernicious thought contagions, social contagions that need no viral or bacterial host and are transmitted in a thousand different ways. A book, a poem, a song, a bedtime story, a grandmother's suicide, the choreography of a dance, a few frames of film, a diagnosis of schizophrenia, a deadly tumble from a horse, a faded photograph, or a story you tell your daughter.

  Caitlín R. Kiernan

  Suicide, Daughter, Song

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• I whisper like the sea in the horse's ear.

  Maggie Stiefvater

  Sea, Ears

  Maggie Stiefvater (2011). “The Scorpio Races”, p.37, Scholastic UK

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• I lost a horse today.' 'That sounds careless. What happened?' 'She jumped off a cliff.' 'A cliff! Is that normal?

  Maggie Stiefvater

  Sound, Today, Cliffs

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• Dear A & M, I talked to the manager of the Beauty Bar because I definitely saw you guys getting married against a hot pink backdrop, but he doesn't think we can fit more than fifty people inside and I'm thinking three hundred. How would you feel about getting married in the park? It might get cold, but you could ride a horse-drawn carriage to the ceremony. How do you feel about matching wedding crowns? -Isabelle

  Cassandra Clare

  Thinking, People, Guy

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• Dear Alec and Magnus, This is the first postcard of five. Don't freak out or anything, but I need you to send me $150,000 to cover the cost of: 1) Two diamanté crowns 2) 20 peacocks 3) 300 chocolate lollipops in the shape of your heads 4) My dress 5) 500 lbs of glitter 6) One white horse (More to come in other cards) -Isabelle

  Cassandra Clare

  Two, White, Chocolate

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• Owain told me about the beautiful, fair-haired Vesta. It took me several minutes to work out that Vesta was a horse, and that Owain was possibly in love with her.

  Alexandra Bracken

  Beautiful, Work Out, Minutes

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• As they climbed into their saddles, Myron bowed his head and muttered a soft prayer. “There,” Hadrian told Royce, “we’ve got Maribor on our side. Now you can relax.” “Actually,” Myron said sheepishly, “I was praying for the horses. But I will pray for you as well,” he added hastily.

  Michael J. Sullivan

  Prayer, Relax, Hadrian

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• The waves broke and spread their waters swiftly over the shore. One after another they massed themselves and fell; the spray tossed itself back with the energy of their fall. The waves were steeped deep-blue save for a pattern of diamond-pointed light on their backs which rippled as the backs of great horses ripple with muscles as they move. The waves fell; withdrew and fell again, like the thud of a great beast stamping.

  Virginia Woolf

  Moving, Fall, Light

  Virginia Woolf (2016). “The Waves”, p.109, Virginia Woolf

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• A—ris—ta?” Degan asked, sounding horse. “What is it?” “A rat bit me,” she said, once again shocked by her own rasping voice. “Jasper does that if—” Gaunt coughed and hacked. After a moment, he spoke again. “If he thinks you’re dead or too weak to fight.” “Jasper?” “I call him that, but I’ve also named the stones in my cell.” “I only counted mine,” Arista said. “Two hundred and thirty-four,” Degan replied instantly. “I have two hundred and twenty-eight.” “Did you count the cracked ones as two?” “No.

  Michael J. Sullivan

  Fighting, Thinking, Eight

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• Wow," she breathed. "I know, right? Hung like a horse." "If you're really nice-and you live through this-I'll promise not to tell V." "About my size." She laughed a little, "No, that you assumed I'd look at you in any fashion other than professionally.

  J.R. Ward

  Fashion, Nice, Promise

  J.R. Ward (2012). “Lover Reborn: A Novel of the Black Dagger Brotherhood”, p.283, Penguin

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• I am here merely as a messenger. Tashi sends her love and returns your horse.

  Julia Golding

  Messengers, Return

  Julia Golding (2008). “Dragonfly”, p.364, Marshall Cavendish

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• You can kiss me if you like," she said. Alex let go of her and turned away. "Thanks, Fiona," he said. "But frankly I'd prefer to kiss the horse.

  Anthony Horowitz

  Letting Go, Kissing, Alex

  Anthony Horowitz (2006). “Point Blank”, p.43, Penguin

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• Fuuuuuuuuuuck." Kynan scrubbed his face. "I could use a double shot of whiskey right now." "I'm sure Flicka keeps hard liquor behind the bar." "Flicka?" "I don't want to say her name." "So you're calling her horse names?" Ky coked a dark eyebrow. "I can't wait to see how she reacts to Mr. Ed.

  Larissa Ione

  Dark, Eyebrows, Names

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• Yet it is true—skin can mean a great deal. Mine means that any man may strike me in a public place and never fear the consequences. It means that my friends do not always like to be seen with me in the street. It means that no matter how many books I read, or languages I master, I will never be anything but a curiosity—like a talking pig or a mathematical horse.

  Susanna Clarke

  Book, Mean, Men

  Susanna Clarke (2009). “Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell”, p.677, Bloomsbury Publishing

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• Finn, do you see the lias—whatever, the orange-haired girl?” Razo Gestured ahead. “Do you think she’s pretty?” Finn glanced Dasha’s way, then returned his attention ot his horse. “She’s all right.” “Really? Just all right?” Finn shrugged. Razo rolled his eyes. “What am I saying? He doesn’t think any girl is pretty but Enna.” “Are there any girls but Enna?” Finn called back. “There’d better be.

  Shannon Hale

  Girl, Eye, Thinking

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• This time of year, I live and breathe the beach. My cheeks feel raw with the wind throwing sand against them. My thighs sting from the friction of the saddle. My arms ache from holding up two thousand pounds of horse. I have forgotten what it is like to be warm and what a full night’s sleep feels like and what my name sounds like spoken instead of shouted across yards of sand. I am so, so alive.

  Maggie Stiefvater

  Beach, Sleep, Night

  Maggie Stiefvater (2011). “The Scorpio Races (Sneak Peek)”, p.4, Scholastic Inc.

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