The horse, by virtue of his awesome physical gifts, freed the jockey from himself.
When a horse and jockey flew over the track together, there were moments in which the man's mind wedded itself to the animal's body to form something greater than the sum of both parts.
The horse partook of the jockey's cunning; the jockey partook of he horse's supreme power. For the jockey, the saddle was a place of unaparalleled exhiliaration, of transcendence.
On the ground, the jockey was fettered and muted, moving in slow motion, the world a sensory vacuum after the tenfold high of racing speed.
In the saddle, emancipated from their bodies, all reisnmen sailed eight feet over the world, emphatically free, emphatically alive. They were Hemingway's bullfighters, living 'all the way up.'"
-Laura Hillenbrand, Seabiscuit: An American Legend