A Quote by Charles Caleb Colton

If a horse has four legs, and I'm riding it, I think I can win. — © Charles Caleb Colton
If a horse has four legs, and I'm riding it, I think I can win.
I feel lucky that I found my talent, not unlucky that I was born with a disability. When I'm on a horse, I'm more worried about what the riding hat is doing to my hair than what my bent legs and arms are doing. What riding has given me is respect.
I'm an American actor. I work with my clothes on. I have to. Riding a horse can be pretty tough on your legs and elsewheres.
A horse stumbles that hath foure legges. [A horse stumbles that has four legs.]
Horses are not for riding! They do not exist for riding! Horse riding is man's invention! It is the making up of human benefit!
I am disappointed when I don't win, because I want to believe I can win on every horse I ride, which is a ridiculous thing to think. Even if I'm on a horse that I have woken up thinking has no chance, by the time I've reached the course, I'll have convinced myself that it can win and will be disappointed if it doesn't.
I've fallen in love with my horse. It's a safer bet. We all know from my illustrious past that I should be sticking to men with four legs.
Horseshoes are lucky. Horses have four bits of lucky nailed to their feet. They should be the luckiest animals in the world. They should rule the country. They should win all their horse races, at least. 'In the fifth race today, every single horse was first equal...one horse threw a shoe came in third...the duck was ninth...and five ran.'
Just as experience dictates to the ballet teacher the length of time necessary to train his students, so the horse, too, needs time to mature into a great four legged dancer. This fact cannot be obliterated by seeming successes that supposedly prove the opposite. For, even if someone should succeed in training a horse to high school level by the age of eight, this individual occurrence cannot shake the foundations of the classical art of riding, if this dressage horse is completely unsound and unusable by the age of ten.
There is a story in Zen circles about a man and a horse. The horse is galloping quickly, and it appears that the man on the horse is going somewhere important. Another man standing alongside the road, shouts, «Where are you going?» and the first man replies, «I don't know! Ask the horse!» This is also our story. We are riding a horse, and we don't know where we are going and we can't stop. The horse is our habit energy pulling us along, and we are powerless.
Fledgeby deserved Mr. Alfred Lammle's eulogium. He was the meanest cur existing, with a single pair of legs. And instinct (a word we all clearly understand) going largely on four legs, and reason always on two, meanness on four legs never attains the perfection of meanness on two.
Yeah, pretending to ride a horse is actually a lot harder than riding a horse.
Actors always lie about horse-riding, and it ends terribly. I can horse-ride... ish.
I have a secret passion for horse riding. I haven't done it for ages, but I used to have a horse. I love it; it's one of my favourite things.
I often tell people that I truly want the horse to be my feet and legs. I want to be an extension of the horse and him to be an extension of me. That's what I'm always working toward when I'm on a horse.
I don't want the horse to get trained, because training the horse is absolutely finite. But if you get the horse to where he operates as if to be your legs, an extension of you, you've far-exceeded that whole training notion.
I learned how to horseback ride in English style, which is very hard, by the way. I had no idea how challenging it was. I've always ridden horses, but Western is like riding a horse in a rocking chair, as opposed to English, where you have to balance and hold on with your legs.
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