I was the lion who forced you to join with Aravis. I was the cat who comforted you among the houses of the dead. I was the lion who drove the jackals from you while you slept. I was the lion who gave the horses the new strength of fear for the last mill so that you should reach King Lune in time. And I was the lion you do not remember who pushed the boat in which you lay, a child near death, so that it came to shore where a man sat, wakeful at midnight, to receive you.
All the king's horses and all the king's men can't put the past together again. So let's remember: Don't try to saw sawdust.
Old minds are like old horses; you must exercise them if you wish to keep them in working order.
Did you ever see an unhappy horse? Did you ever see bird that had the blues? One reason why birds and horses are not unhappy is because they are not trying to impress other birds and horses.
I don't mind what Congress does, as long as they don't do it in the streets and frighten the horses.
Somebody once asked Niels Bohr why he had a horseshoe hanging above the front door of his house. "Surely you, a world famous physicist, can't really believe that hanging a horseshoe above your door brings you luck?". "Of course not," Bohr replied, "but I have been reliably informed that it will bring me luck whether I believe in it or not."
A few said they'd be horses. Most said they'd be some sort of cat. My friend said she'd like to come back as a porcupine. I don't like crowds, she said.
Blackjack," Percy said, "this is Piper and Jason. They're friends." The horse nickered. "Uh, maybe later," Percy answered. Piper had heard that Percy could speak to horses, being the son of the horse lord Poseidon, but she'd never seen it in action. "What does Blackjack want?" she asked. "Donuts," Percy said. "Always donuts.
The last time somebody pointed out that cowboys ride horses, not tricycles, I shot him. Of course, I waited until another gunslinger gunned him down, but nevertheless, I still shot him.
As I got closer to the fence, I held my shirt over my nose to block the smell. One stallion waded through the muck and whinnied angrily at me. He bared his teeth, which were pointed like a bear's. I tried to talk to him in my mind. I can do that with most horses. Hi, I told him. I'm going to clean your stables. Won't that be great? Yes! The horse said. Come inside! Eat you! Tasty half-blood! But I'm Poseidon's son, I protested. He created horses. Usually this gets me VIP treatment in the equestrian world, not this time. Yes! The horse agreed enthusiastically. Poseidon can come in, too! We will eat you both! Seafood! Seafood! The other horses chimed in as they waded through the field.