God never did make a more calm, quiet, innocent recreation than angling.
The person who loses their conscience has nothing left worth keeping.
And for winter fly-fishing it is as useful as an almanac out of date.
Those little nimble musicians of the air, that warble forth their curious ditties, with which nature hath furnished them to the shame of art.
Words are men's daughters, but God's sons are things.
Let me tell you that every misery I miss is a new blessing. [Not only be grateful for the good that you have but also for the bad you don't!]