A Quote by Willa Cather

This land was an enigma. It was like a horse that no one knows how to break to harness, that runs wild and kicks things to pieces. — © Willa Cather
This land was an enigma. It was like a horse that no one knows how to break to harness, that runs wild and kicks things to pieces.
They put me in a harness, like a horse, to learn the back somersault. It was weird up there when I put on that harness for the first time. The courage came with practice.
Hear and attend and listen; for this is what befell and be-happened and became and was, O my Best Beloved, when the Tame animals were wild. The dog was wild, and the Horse was wild, and the Cow was wild, and the Sheep was wild, and the Pig was wild -as wild as wild could be - and they walked in the Wet Wild Woods by their wild lones. But the wildest of all the wild animals was the Cat. He walked by himself and all places were alike to him
Dakota tribal wisdom says that when you're on a dead horse, the best strategy is to dismount. Of course, there are other strategies. You can change riders. You can get a committee to study the dead horse. You can benchmark how other companies ride dead horses. You can declare that it's cheaper to feed a dead horse. You can harness several dead horses together. But after you've tried all these things, you're still going to have to dismount.
Things break all the time. Glass and dishes and fingernails. Cars and contracts and potato chips. You can break a record, a horse, a dollar. You can break the ice. There are coffee breaks and lunch breaks and prison breaks. Day breaks, waves break, voices break. Chains can be broken. So can silence, and fever... promises break. Hearts break.
It was as if my father had given me, by way of temperament, an impossibly wild, dark, and unbroken horse. It was a horse without a name, and a horse with no experience of a bit between its teeth. My mother taught me to gentle it; gave me the discipline and love to break it; and- as Alexander had known so intuitively with Bucephalus- she understood, and taught me, that the beast was best handled by turning it toward the sun.
Ajihad: You are an enigma, Eragon, a quandary that no one knows how to solve.
But talent—if you don't encourage it, if you don't train it, it dies. It might run wild for a little while, but it will never mean anything. Like a wild horse. If you don't tame it and teach it to run on track, to pace itself and bear a rider, it doesn't matter how fast it is. It's useless.
"A guy who knows how to dance knows how to fight. A guy who knows how to fight knows how to love. A person who knows how to fight will break bones yet a person who knows how to love will break hearts".
I grew up in the prolonged survival of the great age of the horse, with harness and saddle and sleigh bells and horse pictures, not as antiques but the facts of our lives.
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.
I try to structure albums in a pattern, like in a way where there's a motif that runs throughout or some kind of conceit that informs it in a general way. Maybe it's in a harmonic key. I like to go metastructural sometimes, like look at more than the three-minute passage and how that interacts with other pieces. And I've been increasingly interested in false starts and fraudulent beginnings, and things that don't reach their implied conclusions. I take an album and I kind of start moving things around like Jenga.
You cannot break a horse until they're about 2 years old. You can halter-break them, meaning teach them how to lead and stuff, if you choose to, but you can't really break them until they're 2 because there aren't developed enough, you know what I mean? It would be like a 5-year-old playing football or something, you know?
I love doing stuff in a harness. It's surprising what you can actually do. I'm reasonably coordinated, so I can do flips and the flipping kicks.
One of the things I like about my profession, and that I find healthy, is that one constantly has to break oneself to pieces.
There are several kinds of land on reservations. And all of these pieces of land have different entities who are in charge of enforcing laws on this land.
Time is a horse that runs in the heart, a horse Without a rider on a road at night. The mind sits listening and hears it pass.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!