Life is like a wild horse. You ride it or it rides you.
Unknown
A good rider can hear his horse speak . . .
A horse doesn’t care how much you know . . .
There are only two emotions that belong in the saddle
What the colt learns
To calm a horse . . .
Every time you ride . . .
You cannot train a horse with shouts . . .
Sign at the Rental Stable
Song of the galloping horse of a yogi.
In the mountain hermitage which is my body,
[translated by Losang P. Lhalungpa]
In the temple of my breast
At the summit of the triangle of my heart,
The horse which is my mind flies like the wind
He gallops on the plains of great bliss.
If he persists, he will attain the rank of a victorious Buddha.
Going backward, he cuts the root of samsara.
Going forward he reaches the high land of buddhahood.
Astride such a horse, one attains the highest illumination