Then do you mean that I have got to go on catching these damned two-and-a-half pounders at this corner forever and ever? The keeper nodded. Hell! said Mr. Castwell. Yes , said his keeper.
You won't find one fish in a million that has enough sense to come in when it rains.
The books all say that barracuda rarely eat people, but very few barracuda can read.
They used to have a fish on the menu that was smoked, grilled and peppered They did everything to this fish but pistol-whip it and dress it in Bermuda shorts.
All the charm of the angler's life would be lost but for these hours of thought and memory. All along the brook, all day on lake or river, while he takes his sport, he thinks. All the long evenings in camp, or cottage, or inn, he tells stories of his own life, hears stories of his friend's lives, and if alone calls up the magic of memory.
It is well known that no person who regards his reputation will ever kill a trout with anything but a fly. It requires some training on the part of the trout to take to this method. The uncultivated, unsophisticated trout in unfrequented waters prefers the bait; and the rural people, whose sole object in going a-fishing appears to be to catch fish, indulge them in their primitive taste for the worm. No sportsman however, will use anything but the fly, except when he happens to be alone.
Ah me son, we don't be takin' nothin' from the sea. We has to sneak up on what we wants and wiggle it away
Aquatic animals suffer from the disadvantage that they cannot scream when in pain, so we find it hard to gauge the degree of their agony. If fish could scream, angling purely for sport would be outlawed without delay.
Don't talk anybody, don't come near! Can't you see the fish might hear? He thinks I'm playing with a piece of string; He thinks I'm another sort of funny thing, But he doesn't know I'm fishing - He doesn't know I'm fishing. That's what I'm doing - Fishing.
A feller's glad to be a friend, Out fishin'. A helpin' hand he'll always lend, Out fishin' The brotherhood of rod and line An' sky an' stream is always fine; Men come real close to God's design, Out fishin'. A feller isn't plotting schemes, Out fishin'. He's only busy with his dreams, Out fishin' His livery is a coat of tan; His creed, to do the best he can; A feller's always mostly man Out fishin'.
Successful trout fishing isn't a matter of brute force or even persistence, but something more like infiltration.
Perhaps the time has come to formulate a moral code which would govern our relations with the great creatures of the sea as well as with those on dry land. That this will come to pass is my dear wish.
If little fish get eaten by bigger fish, and bigger fish get eaten by bigger fish... what happens when there are no little fish? The world's populations of little fish are being harvested to make catfood!? This nonsense has to stop. Feed a fish a cat a day!
Angling is an amusement peculiarly adapted to the mild and cultivated scenery of England
Fishing, if I a fisher may protest, Of pleasures is the sweetest of sports the best, Of exercises the most excellent, Of recreations the most innocent. But now the sport is marred, and why you ask? Fishes decrease, and fishers multiply.
As soon as you think of fishing you think of things that don't belong to the modern world. The very idea of sitting all day under a willow tree beside a quiet pool - and being able to find a quiet pool to sit beside- belongs to a time before the war, before radio, before aeroplanes, before Hitler.
From high Meonia's rocky shores I came, Of poor decsent, Acoetes is my name, My sire was measly born: no oxen ploughed, His fruitful fields, nor in his pastures lowed, His whole estate within the waters lay' With lines and hooks he caught the finny prey; His art was all his livelehood, which he Thus with his dying lips bequeathed to me: In streams, my boy, and rivers take thy chance; There swims', said he, Thy whole inheritance.
It must be observed that fishing with any living bait is to be condemned for the same reason as fishing with a worm: in all such instances we torture two animals at once for our amusement.
In the name of sense, man, if God made fish to be eaten, what difference does it make if I enjoy the killing of them before I eat them? You would have none but a fisherman by trade do it, and then you would have him utter a sigh, a prayer, and a pious ejaculation at each cod or haddock that he killed.
Yet compared with the serious things of life, fishing is after all rather trivial. The thoughtful angler must frankly confess this.
To tell the truth, fishermen remain always boys as far as their amusement goes.
It may be a weed instead of a fish that, after all my labour, I at last pull up.
And why do so many people wilfully exhaust their strength in promiscuous living, when their wives are on hand from bridal night till old age - to be taken when required, like fish from a private pond.
I like speed, so I like taking the jet skis out and hitting the water, or hitting the lake. In the winter, unfortunately, I used to ski a lot but I haven't been able to ski in the past few years because thank God I've been working, so that's a good reason not to.
I watched Ricki Lake's documentary, 'The Business of Being Born,' and that led me to call a midwife, and not an ob-gyn, when I found out I had conceived. My delivery was not easy - they call it 'labor,' not 'a vacation!' - but I was incredibly grateful that I did it that way.
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