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Oh, boy, you not only don’t talk much, you don’t say much
Sigmund Freud, Zur Psychopathologie des Alltagslebens, 1901
And all that hogwash about horses! The loyalty of the horse! The intelligence of the horse! The intelligence? You know a horse has a brain just about the size of a walnut. They’re mean, they’re treacherous and they’re stupid. There isn’t a horse born that had enough sense to move away from a hot fire. No sensible man loves a horse. He tolerates the filthy animal only because riding is better than walking.
Where does the love go, Frozen to grief ?
(Lucy Larcom, “Snow bloom” 1880)