Happy birthday, Laura dear

who is a very nifty nine today. May all your dreams, with and without horses, come true.

He stopped again.
"Would you tell me what you want most in the world?...Would you tell me that?"
He was looking at her.
"Horses," she said, "sir."
"To ride on? To own for yourself?"
He was still looking at her, as though he expected more.
"I tell myself stories about horses," she went on, desperately fishing at her shy desires. "Then I can dream about them. Now I dream about them every night. I want to be a famous rider, I should like to carry dispatches. I should like to get a first at Olympia; I should like to ride in a great race; I should like to have so many horses that I could walk down between the two rows of loose boxes and ride what I chose."

from National Velvet by Enid Bagnold