I am, Sir, a brother of the angle.

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.

Angling may be said to be so like the Mathematics that it can never be fully learnt; at least not so fully but that there will still be more new experiments left for the trial of other men that succeed us.

Old-fashioned poetry, but choicely good.

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!]

As no man is born an artist, so no man is born an angler.

O, sir, doubt not that Angling is an art; is it not an art to deceive a trout with an artificial fly?