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.
Don pedro - (...)'in time the savage bull doth bear the yoke.' benedick - the savage bull may, but if ever the sensible benedick bear it, pluck off the bull's horns and set them in my forehead, and let me be vildly painted; and in such great letters as they writes, 'here is good horse for hire', let them signify under my sign, 'here you may see benedick the married man.
It was none the less a perfectly ordinary horse, such as convergent evolution has produced in many of the places that life is to be found. They have always understood a great deal more than they let on. It is difficult to be sat on all day, every day, by some other creature, without forming an opinion about them.
You have lost your reason and taken the wrong path. You have taken lies for truth, and hideousness for beauty. You would marvel if, owing to strange events of some sorts, frogs and lizards suddenly grew on apple and orange trees instead of fruit, or if roses began to smell like a sweating horse; so i marvel at you who exchange heaven for earth. I don't want to understand you.