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Death is like a fisherman, who, having caught a fish in his net,
leaves it in the water for read more
Death is like a fisherman, who, having caught a fish in his net,
leaves it in the water for a time; the fish continues to swim
about, but all the while the net is round it, and the fishermen
will snatch it out in his own good time.
I am, Sir, a brother of the angle.
I am, Sir, a brother of the angle.
Can the fish love the fisherman?
[Lat., Piscatorem piscis amare potest?]
Can the fish love the fisherman?
[Lat., Piscatorem piscis amare potest?]
Of course, now I am too old to be much of a fisherman, and now of
course I usually read more
Of course, now I am too old to be much of a fisherman, and now of
course I usually fish the big waters alone, although some friends
think I shouldn't. Like many fly fishermen in western Montana
where the summer days are almost Arctic in length, I often do not
start fishing until the cool of the evening. Then in the Arctic
half-light of the canyon, all existence fades to a being with my
soul and memories and the sounds of the Big Blackfoot River and a
four-count rhythm and the hope that a fish will rise.
Three fishers went sailing away to the west,
Away to the west as the sun went down;
read more
Three fishers went sailing away to the west,
Away to the west as the sun went down;
Each thought on the woman who loved him the best,
And the children stood watching them out of the town.
A fisherman's walk: three steps and overboard.
A fisherman's walk: three steps and overboard.
The fisherman could perhaps be bought for less than the fish.
[Lat., Potuit fortasse minoria
Piscator quam read more
The fisherman could perhaps be bought for less than the fish.
[Lat., Potuit fortasse minoria
Piscator quam piscis emi.]
And he saith unto them, Follow me, and I will make you fishers of
men.
And he saith unto them, Follow me, and I will make you fishers of
men.
The fisher droppeth his net in the stream,
And a hundred streams are the same as one;
read more
The fisher droppeth his net in the stream,
And a hundred streams are the same as one;
And the maiden dreameth her love-lit dream;
And what is it all, when all is done?
The net of the fisher the burden breaks,
And always the dreaming the dreamer wakes.