“I may say this is a deluded generation, veiled with ignorance, that tho[ugh] popery and slavery be riding in upon them, do not perceive it; tho[ugh] I am sure there was no man born marked of God above another, for none comes into the world with a saddle on his back, neither any booted and spurred to ride him.”

“I will never do this, says one, yet does it: I am resolved to do this, says another; but flags upon second Thoughts: Or does it, tho’ awkwardly, for his Word’s sake: As if it were worse to break his Word, than to do amiss in keeping it.”

“And in me too the wave rises. It swells; it arches its back. I am aware once more of a new desire, something rising beneath me like the proud horse whose rider first spurs and then pulls him back. What enemy do we now perceive advancing against us, you whom I ride now, as we stand pawing this stretch of pavement? It is death. Death is the enemy. It is death against whom I ride with my spear couched and my hair flying back like a young man's, like Percival's, when he galloped in India. I strike spurs into my horse. Against you I will fling myself, unvanquished and unyielding, O Death!”

“Oh what man may hide inside, tho angel on the outward side.”

“You won't have to do anything but walk a few yards and repeat after the minister.""Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!”

“You must be this tall," I said, leveling my hand well above his stocky height, "to ride this ride." I blew him a kiss and kept walking.”