I arise full of eagerness and energy, knowing well what achievement lies ahead of me.
Never insult seven men when all your packing is a six-shooter.
If I fished only to capture fish, my fishing trips would have ended long ago.
Every once in a while I feel the tremendous force of the novel. But it does not stay with me.
What makes life worth living? Better surely, to yield to the stain of suicide blood in me and seek forgetfulness in the embrace of cold dark death.
Fishing is a condition of mind wherein you cannot possibly have a bad time.