I like Mark Hunt and I've always said good things about Mark Hunt. He goes a little bit off the rails every now and again, but I've never done anything but respect Mark Hunt.
I never liked Duke. I don't know why. Just never did. Guess they were always a heavy favorite and I liked to go with the underdog.
I'd always liked to write, but I never wanted to be a writer, because it seemed a sissy occupation. It is. To this day, I find it terribly easy. And so, rather than trying to hunt up a text, I just wrote one.
Having a [teenage] daughter is like riding a young horse over an unknown steeplechase course. You don't know when to pull up the reins, when to let the horse have its head - or what.
We hunt in Florida, where I live in Jay. I hunt in Alabama a little bit, on my uncle's land. I go to Illinois and hunt with some friends up there. I hunt in Mississippi and Missouri.
A horse, you know, they can't say, 'Hi? How are you? I'm so-and-so,' you know? So they communicate through typically smelling or, you know, just body language. And when a horse approaches another horse, the first thing they do is they smell noses.
I used to ride horses and I remember one day I was working with a horse and we were having it jump, you know? There was a competition and so we were doing a test run and the horse fell on top of my body. I was a kid, like 7 years old. It took them a long time to take the horse off of my body after it had fallen.
I nodded. I liked Augustus Waters. I really, really, really liked him. I liked the way his story ended with someone else. I liked his voice. I liked that he took existentially fraught free throws. I liked that he was a tenured professor in the Department of Slightly Crooked Smiles with a dual appointment in the Department of Having a Voice That Made My Skin Feel More Like Skin. And I liked that he had two names. I’ve always liked people with two names, because you get to make up your mind what you call them: Gus or Augustus? Me, I was always just Hazel, univalent Hazel.
A cavalryman's horse should be smarter than he is. But the horse must never be alowed to know this.
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.
Every dollar I spend, I'm looking to fall in love. I have a few things I already love, but I'm always thinking that I can do better. I'm always on the hunt.
I don't know. I always sort of liked playing [Georgia] that second game because you could always count on them having two or three key players suspended.
If you fall asleep on horseback, the horse will stop by the rock. Art is a car. Kitsch is a horse.
I didn't like school at all. I never liked the seven different classes system. I liked having just one, like in elementary school - less disruption. I liked history. I failed math and science and gave those teachers a hard time.
[My father] was always upset that my mother didn't want to live in New York. Because he said he wanted to live in a hotel and not have to mow the lawn and all that. In other words, he never liked sports clothes, he always liked to be dressed up formally, 24/7. And he drove big cars and, you know, just loved to act the banker.
UNDERSTANDING, n. A cerebral secretion that enables one having it to know a house from a horse by the roof on the house. Its nature and laws have been exhaustively expounded by Locke, who rode a house, and Kant, who lived in a horse.