Quotes About Mare

And the look of the bay mare shames silliness out of me.

The time's gone by for sentiment and all that foolery. Mercy's all very well but after all it's justice that clinches the bargain.

The mare set off for home with the speed of a swallow, and going as smoothly and silently. I never had dreamed of such a motion, fluent and graceful, and ambient, soft as the breeze flitting over the flowers, but swift as the summer lightening.

Women, Mat declared as he rode Pips down the dusty, little-used road, are like mules. He frowned. Wait. No. Goats. Women are like goats. Except every flaming one thinks she's a horse instead, and a prize racing mare to boot. Do you understand me, Talmanes? Pure poetry, Mat, Talmanes said, tamping the tabac down into his pipe.

Like a mare scenting a stallion, she shifted nervously.

Shoe the horse, shoe the mare,But let the little colt go bare.

The horse could not do without Manhattan. It drew him like a magnet, like a vacuum, like oats, or a mare, or an open, never-ending, tree-lined road.

For a knight to ride in a carriage was against the principles of chivalry and he never under any circumstances rode a mare.

In the stock market, as with horse racing, money makes the mare go. Monetary conditions exert an enormous influence on stock prices.

But I have seen more than that,' said he, 'for Hugo Baskerville passed me upon his black mare, and there ran mute behind him such a hound of hell as God forbid should ever be at my heels.

Maven is very much a haunting presence in 'Glass Sword.' His influence is everywhere, and he dogs Mare and Cal like no other. He's my favorite character to write because he's so complex, but also because he affects everyone else so deeply. He's kind of like the source of gravity. Everyone moves around him and what he's done.

And the Emperor's dunderheaded idiot Knights of the Throne would refuse to ride a mare or a gelding. This made absolutely no sense at all, of course. If Kordas had been an enemy commander, one of his first moves would be to send a loose, wild mare in heat out onto the battlefield as soon as the Knights put in an appearance, but in the Empire, when masculine ego came into play, logic flew right out the window.

You, too, are a fool, earthborn, to trust in demon-kind and to ride on a mare of smoke and night. What demons love they slay in the end, and the gifts of demons are snares. Go nowhere on a horse that fades, for your dreams will betray you.

According to an Arab saying, there are three types of service that aren't demeaning: service performed for one's household, taking care of one's mare, and waiting on a guest.

it was well known among rivermen that having a preacher and a gray mare on board was an invitation to disaster.

We followed the rump of a misguiding woman. It is the usual thing for a herd led by a mare to be strayed and destroyed.

His instincts should have warned him sooner than they had, but thanks to his agimortus, he'd been hobbled like a brood mare waiting to be mounted by a randy stallion

authorities within, the shadows of the night took such shapes to him as arose out of the message, and took such shapes to the mare as arose out of her private topics of uneasiness. They seemed to be numerous, for she shied at every shadow on the road. What time, the mail-coach lumbered, jolted, rattled,

Their arms aloft pulling at their clothes were luminous and each obscure soul was enveloped in audible shapes of light as if it had always been so. The mare at the far end of the stable snorted and shied at this luminosity in beings so endarkened and the little horse turned and hid his face in the web of his dam's flank.

Riding my calm dark mare, I was armed and in disguise: shod, braided, cloaked and hooded in green wool against the rain.

And someone said, —Nothing queer about Carruthers . . . to conclude, once for all, the story of that subaltern and his mare.

With some education, and not a little literary ability, he was as clever and worthless a scamp as can well be imagined, and when he took possession of Mount Wollaston, which he named Merry Mount, — or Mare Mount, — he proceeded to enjoy himself freely after his own fashion.

Ah, Ross, eccoti qui, ragazzo. Che succede, la tua casa è caduta in mare e se la stanno portando via le onde?»

One of the masked women imitates the sounds she hears and the ubiquitous tune, as she sways and runs her hand through her hair. A rutting mare, a slender block of ice, warm for others but not for herself, she seems to be split in two: fire from the waist down, straight lines above. Growing more sensual by the minute, more labile and smiling, her mask redder, flame is her nest, the flash of her eyes stony gray.