Not especially enthralling, but poignant to me:
From Black Beauty, when he is in the middle of a terrible time.
"He did not rise; he made one slight effort to do so, and then there was a groan. I could have groaned, too, for I was suffering intense pain both from my foot and knees; but horses are used to bear their pain in silence. I uttered no sound.
One more heavy groan from Smith; but though he now lay in the full moonlight I could see no motion. I could do nothing for him nor myself, but, oh! how I listened for the sound of horse, or wheels, or footsteps! The road was not much frequented, and at this time of the night we might stay for hours before help came to us. I stood watching and listening.
This part especially: It was a calm, sweet April night; there were no sounds but a few low notes of a nightingale, and nothing moved but the white clouds near the moon and a brown owl that flitted over the hedge. It made me think of the summer nights long ago, when I used to lie beside my mother in the green pleasant meadow at Farmer Grey's.
This encompasses a lot for me: He is doing the very best he can, as he has been brought up to do. Even when things are bad he feels first, compassion and then nostalgia... about the time in his childhood when he was carefree. The nights are still the same but his situation has changed drastically and he is still doing the best he can.
