Angling may be said to be so like the mathematics that it can never be fully learned.
This dish of meat is too good for any but anglers, or very honest men.
Angling is somewhat like poetry, men are to be born so.
We see but the outside of a rich man's happiness; few consider him to be like the silkworm, that, when she seems to play, is at the very same time consuming herself.
And for winter fly-fishing it is as useful as an almanac out of date.
Blessings we enjoy daily, and for the most of them, because they be so common, men forget to pay their praises. [and miss much of their benefits from grateful appreciation]