Hobby Horse Quotes

Riding a horse is not a gentle hobby, to be picked up and laid down like a game of solitaire. It is a grand passion. It seizes a person whole and once it has done so, he/she will have to accept that his life will be radically changed.

Those then, who resist a confirmation of public order, are the true Artificers of monarchy—not that this is the intention of the generality of them. Yet it would not be difficult to lay the finger upon some of their party who may justly be suspected. When a man unprincipled in private life desperate in his fortune, bold in his temper, possessed of considerable talents, having the advantage of military habits—despotic in his ordinary demeanour—known to have scoffed in private at the principles of liberty—when such a man is seen to mount the hobby horse of popularity—to join in the cry of danger to liberty—to take every opportunity of embarrassing the General Government & bringing it under suspicion—to flatter and fall in with all the non sense of the zealots of the day—It may justly be suspected that his object is to throw things into confusion that he may “ride the storm and direct the whirlwind.

…so long as a man rides his Hobby-Horse peaceably and quietly along the King's highway, and neither compels you or me to get up behind him,--pray, Sir, what have either you or I to do with it?

It can be coins or sports or politics or horses or music or faith... the saddest people I've ever met in life are the ones who don't care deeply about anything at all. Passion and satisfaction go hand in hand, and without them, any happiness is only temporary, because there's nothing to make it last.

In the Christianity of Christendom the Cross has become something like the child’s hobby-horse and trumpet.

A man like me cannot live without a hobby-horse, a consuming passion — in Schiller's words a tyrant. I have found my tyrant, and in his service I know no limits. My tyrant is psychology. it has always been my distant, beckoning goal and now since I have hit upon the neuroses, it has come so much the nearer.

You can wonder forever how many teeth a horse has - or you can find a horse, open its mouth, and count its teeth.

Lord Goth spent his time riding his hobby horse around the grounds and taking potshots at the garden ornaments with a blunderbuss. Before long he had acquired a reputation for being mad, bad and dangerous to gnomes.

The bureaucratic apparatus is a machine capable of major maneuvering…anything for the sake of survival. Principles? Bureaucrats have no convictions, principles, or any of those muddled metaphysical ideals. The most important thing is holding on to your seat, keeping your palms greased. Bureaucracy is our hobby horse. Lenin

[E]very community insists on what Professor G. J. Renier calls "the Story that must be told" about its own past, and where scholarship decays, myth will crowd in.

Men and women, alone, riding the hobby-horses of anxiety or love, burned their wavering tapers of dream and thought into the lonely hours.

Life is like--like one of those hobby-horses you ride at a fair--round and round you go enjoying every moment and then the--then the music stops...

A man like me cannot live without a hobby-horse, a consuming passion — in Schiller's words a tyrant. I have found my tyrant, and in his service I know no limits. My tyrant is psychology.

FLEISCHMANN: Since the days of Sigmund Freud and the advent of psychoanalysis the interpretation of dreams has played a big role in Austria[n life]. What is your attitude to all that? BERNHARD: I’ve never spent enough time reading Freud to say anything intelligent about him. Freud has had no effect whatsoever on dreams, or on the interpretation of dreams. Of course psychoanalysis is nothing new. Freud didn’t discover it; it had of course always been around before. It just wasn’t practiced on such a fashionably huge scale, and in such million-fold, money-grubbing forms, as it has been now for decades, and as it won’t be for much longer. Because even in America, as I know, it’s fallen so far out of fashion that they just lay people out on the celebrated couch and scoop their psychological guts out with a spoon. FLEISCHMANN: I take it then that psychoanalysis is not a means gaining knowledge for you? BERNHARD: Well, no; for me it’s never been that kind of thing. I think of Freud simply as a good writer, and whenever I’ve read something of his, I’ve always gotten the feeling of having read the work of an extraordinary, magnificent writer. I’m no competent judge of his medical qualifications, and as for what’s known as psychoanalysis, I’ve personally always tended to think of it as nonsense or as a middle-aged man’s hobby-horse that turned into an old man’s hobby-horse. But Freud’s fame is well-deserved, because of course he was a genuinely great, extraordinary personality. There’s no denying that. One of the few great personalities who had a beard and was great despite his beardiness. FLEISCHMANN: Do you have something against beards? BERNHARD: No. But the majority of people call people who have a long beard or the longest possible beard great personalities and suppose that the longer one’s beard is, the greater the personality one is. Freud’s beard was relatively long, but too pointy; that was typical of him. Perhaps it was the typical Freudian trait, the pointy beard. It’s possible.

There are lots, a lot of people in this pillow factory that we live in all the time. I only know the ones around my squarefull, Flower on my left side, Street doctor=smile on the side that is righty of mine, and occasionally in front the Children8. My pants are tight on grandpa.

My horse knows that when I’m grown, we’ll ride the prairies all alone, drivin’ cattle ’cross dusty plains, in the saddle, sun and rain. I’ll never need the finest clothes nor put my hair in pretty bows, with cowgirl boots and cowgirl hat, nothin’ fancy’s where it’s at. From "Cowgirl Dreams,

If Mr. Hauser finds that he is concerned with entities in history which constantly elude his grasp, if he finds that the bourgeoisie and the aristocracy, rationalism and subjectivism constantly seem to change places in his field of vision, he should ask himself whether he is looking through a telescope or a kaleidoscope.

Quotes about Chivalry: Mason Man-at-arms: "Your wife is a hobby horse." Agathian Knight: "Thanks." Mason Archer: "Your parents, are they siblings?" Agathian Archer: "Of course!" Agathian Knight: "Yes, for the glory of Agatha." Agathian Vanguard: "Your cankers swelled so much, that they have reached the size of the world." Mason Archer: "You have my thanks!" Agathian Vanguard: "I'm going to die I need help! Help me please!" Mason Man-at-arms: "Nevah!" Agathian Archer 1: "Yes!" Agathian Archer 2: "No way!" Agathian Archer 1: "Of course!" Agathian Archer 2: "Of course not!" Agathian Archer 1: "The battle's this way gorgeous!" Agathian Archer 2: "Well aren't you a cute one! Best not turn my back on you!" Agathian Archer 1: "Of course!

Quotes about Chivalry: Mason Man-at-arms: "Your wife is a hobby horse." Agathian Knight: "Thanks." Mason Archer: "Your parents, are they siblings?" Agathian Archer: "Of course!" Agathian Knight: "Yes, for the glory of Agatha." Agathian Vanguard: "Your cankers swelled so much, that they have reached the size of the world." Mason Archer: "You have my thanks!" Agathian Vanguard: "I'm going to die I need help! Help me please!" Mason Man-at-arms: "Nevah!" Agathian Archer 1: "Yes!" Agathian Archer 2: "No way!" Agathian Archer 1: "Of course!" Agathian Archer 2: "Of course not!" Agathian Archer 1: "The battle's this way gorgeous!" Agathian Archer 2: "Well aren't you hansome! Best not turn my back on you!" Agathian Archer 1: "Of course!" Agathian Vanguard: "I was searching for a fool when I found you!" Agathian Knight, sarcastically: "I've never been so bethumped with words." Agathian Vanguard: "I disagree!" Agathian Knight: "Twas my duty." Agathian Knight: "I will be by your side brother." Mason Knight: "I discard thee. Let me enjoy my private." Agathian Knight: "No, my lord." Mason Knight: "Yes, yes, it's easy for me." Agathian Knight: "Thank you, brother." Mason Vanguard: "Come here squire, I need help with my codpiece." Agathian Archer: "Of course!" Mason Man-at-arms: "Nope." *laughs maniacally.*

Papa, explique-moi donc à quoi sert l'histoire?' These are the opening words of Marc Bloch's moving Apologie pour l'histoire, which was cut short when its author was killed by the Nazis. [...]Apparently it has not yet struck anyone that where the myth originated it might also be rendered innocuous through more accurate work in the quarry of books. [...] It would be easy to show that one element of the nazi myth sprang up in the harmless field of comparative philology. The great Max Müller once ventured the guess that all peoples speaking the so-called Indo-Germanic languages might derive from the tribe of Aryans. He soon changed his mind, but the mischief was done, and the ghastly tragedy of those who were idiotically labelled non-Aryans should now suffice to answer the question of Marc Bloch's son.

Clearly, material objects as well as human beings, societies, or periods may be subject to conflicting pulls, they may contain tensions and divisions, but they can no more "harbor contradictions" than they can harbor syllogisms. The reason why Marxist critics so often forget this simple fact is that they are mostly concerned with the analysis of political systems. It may be true or not that "Capitalism" — if there is such a thing — contains "inner contradictions," if we take capitalism to be asystem of propositions. But to equate the conflicts within capitalist society with its "contradictions" is to pun without knowing it. It is where the politicians turns historian that this confusion becomes disastrous. For it prevents him from ever testing or discarding any hypothesis. If he finds it confirmed by some evidence he is happy; if other evidence seems to conflict he is even happier, for he can then introduce the refinement of "contradictions".

Whatever the historian’s individual outlook may be, a subject such as the social history of art simply cannot be treated by relying on secondary authorities. Even Mr. Hauser’s belief in social determinism could have become fertile and valuable if it had inspired him, as it has inspired others, to prove its fruitfulness is research, to bring to the surface new facts about the past not previously caught in the nest of more conventional theories. Perhaps the trouble lies in the fact that Mr. Hauser is avowedly not interested in the past for its own sake but that he sees it as "the purpose of historical research" to understand the present (p. 714). His theoretical prejudices may have thwarted his sympathies. For to some extent they deny the very existence of what we call the "humanities". If all human beings, including ourselves, are completely conditioned by the economic and social circumstances of their existence then we really cannot understand the past by ordinary sympathy.

THE VISION EXERCISE Create your future from your future, not your past. WERNER ERHARD Erhard Founder of EST training and the Landmark Forum The following exercise is designed to help you clarify your vision. Start by putting on some relaxing music and sitting quietly in a comfortable environment where you won’t be disturbed. Then, close your eyes and ask your subconscious mind to give you images of what your ideal life would look like if you could have it exactly the way you want it, in each of the following categories: 1. First, focus on the financial area of your life. What is your ideal annual income and monthly cash flow? How much money do you have in savings and investments? What is your total net worth? Next . . . what does your home look like? Where is it located? Does it have a view? What kind of yard and landscaping does it have? Is there a pool or a stable for horses? What does the furniture look like? Are there paintings hanging in the rooms? Walk through your perfect house, filling in all of the details. At this point, don’t worry about how you’ll get that house. Don’t sabotage yourself by saying, “I can’t live in Malibu because I don’t make enough money.” Once you give your mind’s eye the picture, your mind will solve the “not enough money” challenge. Next, visualize what kind of car you are driving and any other important possessions your finances have provided. 2. Next, visualize your ideal job or career. Where are you working? What are you doing? With whom are you working? What kind of clients or customers do you have? What is your compensation like? Is it your own business? 3. Then, focus on your free time, your recreation time. What are you doing with your family and friends in the free time you’ve created for yourself? What hobbies are you pursuing? What kinds of vacations do you take? What do you do for fun? 4. Next, what is your ideal vision of your body and your physical health? Are you free of all disease? Are you pain free? How long do you live? Are you open, relaxed, in an ecstatic state of bliss all day long? Are you full of vitality? Are you flexible as well as strong? Do you exercise, eat good food, and drink lots of water? How much do you weigh? 5. Then, move on to your ideal vision of your relationships with your family and friends. What is your relationship with your spouse and family like? Who are your friends? What do those friendships feel like? Are those relationships loving, supportive, empowering? What kinds of things do you do together? 6. What about the personal arena of your life? Do you see yourself going back to school, getting training, attending personal growth workshops, seeking therapy for a past hurt, or growing spiritually? Do you meditate or go on spiritual retreats with your church? Do you want to learn to play an instrument or write your autobiography? Do you want to run a marathon or take an art class? Do you want to travel to other countries? 7. Finally, focus on the community you’ve chosen to live in. What does it look like when it is operating perfectly? What kinds of community activities take place there? What charitable, philanthropic, or volunteer work? What do you do to help others and make a difference? How often do you participate in these activities? Who are you helping? You can write down your answers as you go, or you can do the whole exercise first and then open your eyes and write them down. In either case, make sure you capture everything in writing as soon as you complete the exercise. Every day, review the vision you have written down. This will keep your conscious and subconscious minds focused on your vision, and as you apply the other principles in this book, you will begin to manifest all the different aspects of your vision.

Once we start thinking that a brother or sister, after believing in Jesus, must also adhere to whatever our hobby horse issue is, not for maturation, but for genuineness, then we are telling them that Jesus is not sufficient.

Now, to steal horses, their raiding parties ranged over the endless grass-lands far toward the south, old warriors say even into the Spanish possessions. Often these raiders were absent for two years; and nearly always they were successful. Their pony-bands grew until men measured their wealth in horses. Meat, their principal food, was easily obtained; and yet these people did not permit life to drag, or become stale. War and horse-stealing were their never-ending games; and besides furnishing necessary excitement and adventure they kept every man in constant training, since a successful raid was certain to bring attempts at reprisal. To be mentioned by his tribesmen as a great warrior, or a cunning horse-thief, was the highest ambition of a plains Indian; and the Blackfeet were master-hands at both these hazardous hobbies.

At Hobby Lobby She tosses a bolt of fabric into the air. Hill country, prairie, a horse trots there. I say three yards, and her eyes say more: What you need is guidance, a hand that can zip a scissor through cloth. What you need is a picture of what you've lost. To double the width against the window for the gathering, consider where you sit in the morning. Transparency's appealing, except it blinds us before day's begun. How I long to captain that table, to return in a beautiful accent a customer's request. My mother kneeled down against her client and cut threads from buttons with her teeth, inquiring with a finger in the band if it cut into the waist. Or pulled a hem down to a calf to cool a husband's collar. I can see this in my sleep and among notions. My bed was inches from the sewing machine, a dress on the chair forever weeping its luminescent frays. Sleep was the sound of insinuation, a zigzag to keep holes receptive. Or awakened by a backstitch balling under the foot. A needle cracking? Blood on a white suit? When my baby's asleep I write to no one and cannot expect a response. The fit's poor, always. No one wears it out the door. But fashions continue to fly out of magazines like girls out of windows. Sure, they are my sisters. Their machines, my own. The office from which I wave to them in their descent has uneven curtains, made with my own pink and fragile hands.

The Remingtons are royalty in New England, but … so are the Bonaviches. Penthesilea is descended from people who came off the fucking Mayflower. Her father trades stock as a hobby. Her mother raises horses as a side hustle. There’s no reason for Penthesilea to be here other than a stupid place at Harvard, and she could get that herself. Is she really that desperate to get him back?

To live with meaning is to have the right focus in life. That focus cannot be obsessions, attachments, or hobbies. It must be people, because the love you put into your personal relationships comes back to you many times over. This is the real message of the story. Never allow yourself to become the horse lover. Follow the Tao to become who you really want to be—the people lover.

I knew you'd be lucky today. I was pretty lucky myself, 693 came out and I played 698. Had the first two numbers right, anyway." Andy smiled. "Are you a ducker for that number racket. I guess everybody is a sucker for some kind of racket. Horses, numbers, cards, bingo, pinball machines...the great American hobbies. Everybody trying anything to make a few bucks." "I only play two cents a day," Charley said weakly. "Go ahead, play, if you get a bang out of it. Maybe you'll hit...one of these days! There's our old pal, one of these days, and some day, popping up.

I am positive that for those who have made equestrianism, harness racing, flat racing, driving and the like their profession or their hobby it is not worth reading or even opening this book.

So I was right about all the lessons. Predictable. Unless you also have some exciting hobby I don’t know about. Do you tame wild horses in your free time? BASE jump off the top of that tower in Dubai? Host orgies in your private library?” “I’m afraid not.” Kai’s voice could’ve melted butter. “I don’t like sharing.

All goes well with me; I am a respectable Federal ink shitter with a decent salary. I am riding my mathematical-physical hobby horse and I fiddle my violin—both within the constraints my two-year-old little boy has imposed on me for superfluous things of this kind.

Sanditon was a second wife and four children to him -- hardly less dear --- and certainly more engrossing.--- He could talk of it for ever. --- It had indeed the highest claims; --- not only those of birth place, property, and home, --- it was mine, his lottery, his speculation and his hobby horse; his occupation, his hope and his futurity.--- Sanditon, Jane Austen

But why the obsessions? And why these specific subjects? Experts think predictability is a factor. Most autistic people’s hobbies can be categorised or are logical or predictable. Horses or birds belong to animal species and have certain characteristics. Computers do what you tell them to do. (And if they don’t, that’s usually because you – or the software developer – made a mistake. A computer can’t just go and decide to do something wrong because it doesn’t like you, no matter how many people say it can.) Stamps can go into an album, bicycle race results can be compared. And sorting, categorising and calculating simply makes most autistics very happy.

They were good people, on the whole, despite their occasional bickering and hobby-horse riding. They cared about what happened to her and how her soul was faring. She was risking their friendship for the sake of the man who cared nothing for her — apart from how quickly he could persuade her onto her back.

What the fuck is bridge?" Hades asked. "You own a gambling den and don't know what bridge is? Gods, you're really old." "I have hobbies, Hermes. I ride horses and play cards, and I dream about how to torture you on a regular basis." The god's brows perked. "You dream about me?" Hades said nothing. "And...um...how exactly do you torture me? In these dreams." "Not pleasantly," said Hades. "List them out, Hades," Hermes said.

The paranoiac is the person who has realized that he is no different from anyone else. So his singularity–and the importance of singularity–becomes his hobby-horse (the contemporary preoccupation with finding one’s voice is clearly a derivative of this). The idea of individuality may emerge at the point at which it begins to occur to people that there may be no such thing. People may be unique, but their uniqueness may be insignificant.

Britain had become a kind of cargo cult, a jumble of disassociated local customs, rituals and superstitions: uncanny relics of the distant, unknowable Britain of ancient days. Why, for instance, do sword dancers lock weapons in magical shapes such as the pentagram or the six-pointed star, led by a man wearing a fox’s head? What is the straw bear plodding round the village of Whittlesey in Cambridgeshire every January? Why do a bunch of Nutters black up their faces and perform a coconut dance in several Lancashire villages? What possesses people to engage in the crazed ‘furry dance’, singing the ‘Hal-An-Tow’ song, on 6 May at Helston in Cornwall? Why do beribboned hobby horses canter round the streets of Padstow and Minehead every May Day, with attendant ‘Gullivers’ lunging at onlookers with a giant pair of pincers? The persistence of such rites, and the apparent presence of codes, occult symbolism and nature magic in the dances, mummers’ plays and balladry of yore, have provided a rich compost for some of the outgrowths of folk in the 1960s and afterwards. Even to dip a toe into the world of folklore is to unearth an Other Britain, one composed of mysterious fragments and survivals – a rickety bridge to the sweet grass of Albion. As Bert Lloyd mentioned, ‘To our toiling ancestors [these customs] meant everything, and in a queer irrational way they can still mean much to us.’1

nodded to show I’d heard. “What about free time?” “For all your scintillating hobbies?” Rohan plucked an apple out of the fruit bowl on the table and bit into it. “Yes. As well as the many good works I do.” He arched his eyebrow, miming giving a hand job. “Are you ever going to let that go?” He took another bite. “Not when there are still hours of fun to be had from it. You know you don’t have to jerk the demons off to kill them, right?” “It was one time.” He slapped the table. “Knew it! Baruch owes me twenty.” I groaned at the fact that I’d just confirmed his suspicions. “Don’t feel bad,” he said with a smirk, “I puzzled it out when reaching for the curupira’s dick was your first move.” “I couldn’t not reach for Mount Phallus. He was hung like a horse.” He held up his hands. “If that’s your kink, then hey, no judgment.

That thing is good luck?" Emmet asked darkly. Nobody had to wonder what he meant by 'that thing