The mind is divided, like a rider on an elephant, and the rider's job is to serve the elephant. The rider is our conscious reasoning-the stream of words and images of which we are fully aware. The elephant is the other 99 percent of mental processes-the ones that occur outside of awareness but that actually govern most of our behavior.
I think that 'Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance' was mentally taxing, if only because I had to go to a Christmas party shortly after I had wrapped photography in Romania at two in the morning as the Ghost Rider. The invitation had a Christmas ornament on it with Ghost Rider's face on it as a tree.
One might compare the relation of the ego to the id with that between a rider and his horse. The horse provides the locomotor energy, and the rider has the prerogative of determining the goal and of guiding the movements of his powerful mount towards it. But all too often in the relations between the ego and the id we find a picture of the less ideal situation in which the rider is obliged to guide his horse in the direction in which it itself wants to go.
There was once a spirited feral mustang broken in by her stern rider. It was a harmonious relationship for the most part but, like any relationship, she tested the boundaries he placed on her and threw him... Would the rider, having suffered his own wound, retaliate, discipline or forgive?
Donna Lynn Hope
We are very happy to have Marcus on our team for next season. He is a really good rider, who has the right attitude and fits perfectly on the team. Primarily, he is a reinforcement to our Classics team, but he is a rider who has the ability to make a difference in almost any kind of race.
As I see it, I'm just getting better and better as a rider - physically and mentally. I'm as motivated as I ever was. I enjoy it as much as I ever did. When you're a good rider on a good day, the bike doesn't rattle and bounce. You're smooth. Even if it's rough you can find a way to make the bike float.
Psychoanalytic doctrine reveals the pig in man, a pig saddled with a conscience; the disastrous result is that the pig is uncomfortable beneath that pious rider, and the rider fares no better in the situation, since his endeavor is not only to tame the pig, but also to render it invisible.
She gave him a wan smile. "And then you came, Eragon. You and Saphira. After hope had deserted me and I was about to be taken to Galbatorix in Uru'baen, a Rider appeared to rescue me. A rider and a dragon!" "And Morzan's son," he said. "Both of Morzan's sons." "Describe it how you will, it was such an improbable rescue, I occasionally think that I did go mad and that I've imagined everything since.
Until your personality has exhausted its obsession with running the show, your soul isn't given the space to express itself. Your personality can be threatened by your soul, because your personality has controlled your life for a long time and doesn't want to give up control. Your personality is like a wild horse that tries to throw off the rider trying to tame it. The rider is your soul.
Why do you like show jumping?" "... Beauty and excitement. The elements of trust, talent, training, love, and danger make show jumping a thrilling and aesthetic experience. It's really the ultimate test of two nervous systems-the kinetic transfer of the rider's muscle to the horse's muscle enables them to clear those jumps. And there's nothing like it-horse and rider forming an arc of beauty, efficiency, and power, like a double helix." "DNA," "Yes, DNA, the code to life.
All the alleged key causes of SOE [State-Owned Enterprise] inefficiency the principal-agent problem, the free-rider problem and the soft budget constraint are, while real, not unique to state-owned enterprises. Large private-sector firms with dispersed ownership also suffer from the principal-agent problem and the free-rider problem. So, in these two areas, forms of ownership do matter, but the critical divide is not between state and private ownership it is between concentrated and dispersed ownerships.
On the flat expanse of pancake ice, War stood by the Pale Rider's side. Though their forms did not touch, their shadows intertwined, black on black, in a smoky caress. 'Knew you'd come, ' Death said cheerfully. She smiled, and that slow motion of her lips hinted at many things. 'The White Rider divided, and the world on the brink of destruction. How could I stay away?' 'I could set my watch by you.' 'You don't have a watch.' Her smile broadened into a grin. 'An hourglass, maybe... ' 'Please, not another joke about a scythe... ' She mimed zipping her mouth shut. A pause, as they listened to the sounds of the boy healing and the man summoning doom. 'I like him, ' War said. Even though she hadn't specified whether she meant the boy or the man, Death smiled and nodded. 'Me too.' 'You like everyone.' 'Well, yes.' The two shared a quiet laugh, their voices mingling in perfect harmony. A longer pause, and then War asked, 'What of Famine?' 'What of her? She's not mine. Not yet, anyway. She will be soon enough.' The Red Rider slid him a look. 'That's cold, even for you.' 'Eh, just practical.' A shrug. 'Everyone comes to me eventually. It's the journey that makes it interesting.' 'Such a people person!' He flashed her a grin. 'My best quality.' 'Oh, ' said War, sliding her gloved hand into his pale one, 'I can think of others that are better.
Jackie Morse Kessler