Climb. All. The. Things.

After our trip to the canyon, we stopped at the legs on the way home (and if that sounds like a strange statement to you, then you are probably not from Amarillo):

Lex was pleased that the gate was not made of barbed wire, and able to be climbed.  I decided to allow it, as the herd of cows was so far on the other side of the field that we were likely not to be bothered by them.

I know that the legs are a reference to the Percy Bysshe Shelley poem, but every time I see them I end up reciting a passage from Shakespeare instead.

It's from Julius Caesar, and we had to memorize it in 9th grade humanities class:

"Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world 

Like a Colossus, and we petty men

Walk under his huge legs and peep about

To find ourselves dishonorable graves.

Men at some time are masters of their fates.

The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars

But in ourselves, that we are underlings."

(Julius Caesar, Act I, Scene II)