Yet when the books have been read, it boils down to the horse, his human companion, and what goes on between them

His mane was like a crest, mounting, then falling low. His neck was long and slender, and arched to the small, savagely beautiful head. The head was that of the wildest of all wild creatures- a stallion born wild- and it was beautiful, savage, splendid. A stallion with a wonderful physical perfection that matched his savage, ruthless spirit.

Imagination can help you reach into the heavens to grasp an idea, bring it down to earth, and make it work.

You've never in your life seen a horse run like this! He's all power - all beauty.

I believe that half the trouble in the world comes from people asking 'What have I achieved?' rather than 'What have I enjoyed?'