A Quote by Noel Coward

I want a horse and plough, Chickens too, Just one cow, With a wistful moo. — © Noel Coward
I want a horse and plough, Chickens too, Just one cow, With a wistful moo.
The Arabian horse will not plough well, nor can the plough-horse be rode to play the jereed.
A cat's meow and cow's moo, I can recite them all.
Even a cow creates ambiguous signifiers. The moo of mystery.
The cow is of the bovine ilk; one end is moo, the other milk.
The cow is of the bovine ilk: One end is moo, the other, milk.
Moo may represent an idea, but only the cow knows.
The ox longs for the gaudy trappings of the horse; the lazy pack-horse would fain plough. [We envy the position of others, dissatisfied with our own.]
I’m not trying to turn you into cowboys, I’m just trying to get you better coordinated, get your horse used to things, get your horse comfortable. Heck, on the first ride you should be swinging a rope off a horse. You should be doing this not so you can rope a cow, but just to get him (your horse) gentle. You can’t think of everything in life your horse might encounter that might make him afraid so you’d better prepare em for it in other ways.
My neighbor has two dogs. One of them says to the other, "Woof!" The other replies, "Moo!" The dog is perplexed. "Moo? Why did you say 'Moo'?" The other dog says, "I'm trying to learn a foreign language."
Grandchildren can be annoying - how many times can you go: "And the cow goes moo and the pig goes oink"? It's like talking to a supermodel.
When I was little, we lived on 8 acres and my mom had a horse. But when I was 7, my mom kicked my dad out, and then in order to feed us five kids, she got critters cheap or for free and raised them for food. We milked a cow, raised chickens, pigs and beef cattle. We heated our one-story house with wood and stayed cold all winter.
When chickens get to live like chickens, they'll taste like chickens, too.
And in a world where we have too many choices and too little time, the obvious thing to do is just ignore stuff. And my parable here is, you're driving down the road and you see a cow, and you keep driving 'cause you've seen cows before. Cows are invisible. Cows are boring. Who's going to stop and pull over and say, oh, look, a cow? Nobody.
Everything that's fun in life is dangerous. Horse races, for instance, are very dangerous. But attempt to design a safe horse and the result is a cow ... It is impossible to be alive and safe.
Horses are consistent and logical. The horse will do what is easiest for him. If you make it easy for him to buck you off, kick you, and run away, that’s just what he’s going to do. And more power to him. But if you make it easy for the horse to be relaxed and calm and accurate — and also have it be a beautiful dance between you and the horse — it won’t be too long before he’ll be hunting for that just as hard as you are. Whatever you make easy for the horse, that’s what he’s going to get good at.
That's what I want, that kind of recklessness where the poem is even ahead of you. It's like riding a horse that's a little too wild for you, so there's this tension between what you can do and what the horse decides it's going to do.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!