Riding is a complicated joy. You learn something each time. It is never quite the same, and you never know it all.

We dominate a horse by mind over matter. We could never do it by brute strength.

Nothing that ever happens in life can take away the fact that I am me. So I have to go on being me.

Writing is a cop-out. An excuse to live perpetually in fantasy land, where you can create, direct and watch the products of your own head. Very selfish.

No ride is ever the last one. No horse is ever the last one you will have. Somehow there will always be other horses, other places to ride them.

Come to the stable. Come to where the horses are, and the sweet, grainy, pungent smells.

The limitless jet-lag purgatory of Immigration and Baggage at Heathrow.