Equestrian Stables Quotes

As I got closer to the fence, I held my shirt over my nose to block the smell. One stallion waded through the muck and whinnied angrily at me. He bared his teeth, which were pointed like a bear's. I tried to talk to him in my mind. I can do that with most horses. Hi, I told him. I'm going to clean your stables. Won't that be great? Yes! The horse said. Come inside! Eat you! Tasty half-blood! But I'm Poseidon's son, I protested. He created horses. Usually this gets me VIP treatment in the equestrian world, not this time. Yes! The horse agreed enthusiastically. Poseidon can come in, too! We will eat you both! Seafood! Seafood! The other horses chimed in as they waded through the field.

I lost hope when I saw the horses’ teeth. As I got closer to the fence, I held my shirt over my nose to block the smell. One stallion waded through the muck and whinnied angrily at me. He bared his teeth, which were pointed like a bear’s. I tried to talk to him in my mind. I can do that with most horses. Hi, I told him. I’m going to clean your stables. Won’t that be great? Yes! The horse said. Come inside! Eat you! Tasty half-blood! But I’m Poseidon’s son, I protested. He created horses. Usually this gets me VIP treatment in the equestrian world, but not this time. Yes! The horse agreed enthusiastically. Poseidon can come in, too! We will eat you both! Seafood!

Everything that mattered in Hank Reed’s life, outside of his family, revolved around horses. Starting with his days as a cadet, he had lived in a world that could measure everything—honor, kindliness, discipline, sporting spirit, diligence, and, most of all, courage—in equestrian terms. His brain was crammed with the nomenclature of horses: cantle, withers, curb chain, bran mash, fetlock, stock tie, near side, picket line. He knew the aids for a flying lead change, the correct attire for a foxhunt, the thunder of charging by platoon, and the serenity of riding alone on a quiet path, with only his mount’s breaths and cadenced footsteps for company. The rhythm of a horse’s strides was like music to him—the walk a ballad in four/four time, the trot a rousing two-beat march, the canter a smooth three-beat waltz. Reed knew the scent of fresh straw in the stable, the tickle of a horse’s whiskers as it nuzzled up a carrot. He knew that endless moment when a fall was inevitable and then the sudden breathless smack of landing hard on packed dirt. He knew what the end of a day on horseback felt like, salty with sweat, dirt under his fingernails, and a mind whitewashed from all worry. More than anything, Hank Reed understood what was unspoken among all of these horse soldiers. Sunburned, brusque, tough, accustomed to giving and taking orders, they knew that if you live, eat, sleep, and breathe horses for long enough, they become part of you, and your soul is forever altered.

Perhaps it is the remnants of our primitive nature, when man first observed the wild horse herds and recognized a reciprocal need that could only be met through one another. The unspoken language of Equus has mystically united horse and human for eons, but for some of us, it is a music we cannot ignore.

Someday you will find yourself laughing at a joke when you thought you would never be happy again. You will find yourself smiling and admiring the beauty of the mountains, when the world once felt so cruel and unforgiving. And maybe when trotting on the back of a horse, you will hear your heart beating, I'm still here. I'm still here.

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Recently, the authors of From Scythia to Camelot have revealed through their prodigious research that history also supports the migration of Holy Grail wisdom from ancient Persia. Authors Littleton and Malcor reveal that the legends of King Arthur and the Holy Grail arrived in Europe via Scythian tribes known as Sarmatians and Alans, whose equestrian knights rode out of the Caucasus Mountains and parts of northern Iran during the first five centuries after Christ and became assimilated into the Roman provinces of Europe. These Central Asian tribes brought with them legends of swords, chalices, and knights, which collectively could have provided the raw material for the Holy Grail legends of Europe. This appears probable since the Arthurian-Grail legends did not surface in Europe until well after the neo-Scythian tribes had become established on the continent. Perhaps the most convincing evidence of a Holy Grail migration from Scythia are the Nart Sagas, the “Knight Sagas,” which are chivalrous legends which were passed down among the Scythian tribes of Persia and Central Asia. Littleton and Malcor suggest that Baltraz, one of the principal figures in the Nart Sagas, could have evolved into the character of King Arthur via the migration of the Sarmatians into Great Britain during the Roman Empire. They cite many similarities between the two figures, including the fact that both commanded a stable of knights, which for Arthur were his Knights of the Round Table and for Baltraz were his “Narts.” Both figures also possess almost the exact legend regarding their last moments on Earth. While dying on the battlefield both Arthur and Batraz asked their assistants to toss their swords into specific bodies of water, and in both cases their couriers returned without completing the mission but lied and claimed that they had. Both Arthur and Batraz detected the deception of their messengers, and when their swords were later truly plunged into water as asked extraordinary results occurred just as they had expected. When Baltraz’s sword reached the sea the water boiled and turned blood red, and when Arthur’s sword of Excalibur returned to the body of water it originated from it was caught by the The Eastern Origins of the Holy Grail Mysteries upraised arm of the Lady of the Lake, who carried it to the bottom of the lake. The Nart Sagas also reflect the European Holy Grail legends on one very crucial point. They refer to a magical chalice, a Holy Grail, that can only be touched and owned by a “knight without flaw.” The Scythian Holy Grail is the Nartmongue, the “Revealer of the Narts,” which continually refills itself with drink at the banquets of Scythian knights, just as the European Holy Grail is reputed to do at the table of the Arthurian knights. And just as the Arthurian Grail will only appear to the most righteous of knights, the Nartmongue elevates itself only to the lips of those knights who are “without flaw.” The Nartmongue also parallels the European Holy Grail in that it was passed down within lineages of special kings while eternally protected by an order of knights. The influence of the Scythian Alans may