Winded and coughing, I lay on one elbow and spat out a mouthful of grass and mud. The horse I'd been riding raised its weight off my ankle, scrambled untidily to its feet and departed at an unfeeling gallop. I waited for things to settle: chest heaving, bones still rattling from the bang, sense of balance recovering from the thirty-mile-an-hour somersault and a few tumbling rolls. No harm done. Nothing broken. Just another fall.
-Dick Francis, Reflex