When I bestride him, I soar, I am a hawk: he trots the air; the earth sings when he touches it; the basest horn of his hoof is more musical than the pipe of Hermes. – William Shakespeare, HenryV

Gipsy gold does not chink and glitter. It gleams in the sun and neighs in the dark. – Attributed to the Claddaugh Gypsies of Galway

There is nothing so good for the inside of a man as the outside of a horse. – John Lubbock, “Recreation,” The Use of Life, 1894