“Wherever man has left his footprints in the long ascent from barbarism to civilization, we find the hoofprint of a horse beside it.” —John Trotwood Moore

In a legend the elders foretold
Of the quest for the southwestern gold
On the glittering sands
Of the equine’s homeland
Where brave horses are spirited souls

I am still under the impression that there is nothing alive quite so beautiful as a horse.

―John Galsworthy

A new breed of horses called Choochoos
Shall clang bells and rankle papooses
Fire-breathing marauders
Making steam from waters
Dragging wagon trains and cabooses

I am awaked almost every night by the panting of the locomotive. It interrupts my dreams. There is no sabbath.

―Henry David Thoreau

The old ones told brave souls don’t worry
‘Bout the new breed’s stampeding hurry
To plow up western gold
Plying a silver road
‘Long which horses of iron scurry

A private railroad car is not an acquired taste. One takes to it immediately.

―Eleanor Robson Belmont

So the elders of brave horses told
While sacred stones and metals they tooled
Bring ’em on in their rush
For the west’s glitter dust
Spirited horses their wagons pull

I have always loved locomotives passionately. For me they are living creatures and I love them as others love women or horses.

―Arthur Honegger