Since humans first huddled around campfires, stories have been told of wild horses with wind in their manes, fire in their eyes and freedom in their hearts. Those horses eluded capture, and scorned the comforts of civilization. Americans have insisted… — Terri Farley Copy Share Image
Somewhere, somewhere in time's own space, there must be some sweet pastured place. Where creeks sing on and tall trees grow, some Paradise where horses go. For by the love that guides my pen, I know great horses live again. — George Bernard Shaw Copy Share Image
