Fishing Quotes - Page 5

It is utterly soothing to fly fish for trout. All other considerations or worries drift away and you couldn't keep them close if you wanted. Perhaps it's standing thigh deep in a river with the water passing at the exact but varying speed of life. You easily recognize this mortality and it dissipates into the landscape.

There is time to go long, time to go short and time to go fishing.

I love any discourse of rivers, and fish and fishing.

One fish. Two fish. Red fish. Blue fish. Black fish. Blue fish. Old fish. New fish. This one has a little star. This one has a little car. Say! What a lot of fish there are.

Ye monsters of the bubbling deep, Your Maker's praises spout; Up from the sands ye codlings peep, And wag your tails about.

... To this day I would rather see a fish, creep up to him and watch his rise to my fly than catch half a dozen fish unseen until they take.

Perhaps I should not have been a fisherman, he thought. But that was the thing that I was born for.

Time flies so fast after youth is past that we cannot accomplish one half the many things we have in mind or indeed one half our duties. The only safe and sensible plan is to make other things give way to the essentials, and the first of these is fly fishing.

It's just that the longer I fish, the more I long for simplification and lightness.

Look at where Jesus went to pick people. He didn't go to the colleges; he got guys off the fishing docks.

There is certainly something in angling that tends to produce a serenity of the mind.

Fishing should be a ceremony that reaffirms our place in the natural world and helps us resist further estrangement from our origins.

An undisturbed river is as perfect as we will ever know, every refractive slide of cold water a glimpse of eternity.

The angling fever is a very real disease and can only be cured by the application of cold water and fresh, untainted air.

Why does a salmon rise? Why does a small boy cross the street just to kick a tin can?

I fish because I love to . . . because I love the environs where trout are found . . . because I suspect that men are going along this way for the last time, and I for one don’t want to waste the trip . . . and, finally, not because I regard fishing as being so terribly important but because I suspect that so many of the other concerns of men are equally unimportant––and not nearly so much fun.

Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in.

Fish and visitors stink in three days.

Work: a dangerous disorder affecting high public functionaries who want to go fishing.

Fishermen, no matter what supreme good fortune befalls them, cannot ever be absolutely satisfied. It is a fundamental weakness of intellect.

Wherever the trout are, it's beautiful.

I never hesitated to promote someone I didn't like. The comfortable assistant - the nice guy you like to go on fishing trips with - is a great pitfall. Instead I looked for those sharp, scratchy, harsh, almost unpleasant guys who see and tell you about things as they really are. If you can get enough of them around you, and have patience enough to hear them out, there is no limit to where you can go.

Lots of people committed crimes during the year who would not have done so if they had been fishing. The increase of crime is among those deprived of the regenerations that impregnate the mind and character of the fisherman.

Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in. I drink at it; but while I drink I see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it is. Its thin current slides away, but eternity remains.

When things are going well, I can't write fast enough to keep up with my mind. Writing walks, speech runs and talk flies. Other times, though, it's like fishing.