Robert Burns Quotes

Or whipping its rough surface for a trout.

I love to watch the movement of light on water, and I love to play in rivers and lakes, swimming or canoeing. I am fascinated by people who work with water - fishermen, boatmen - and by a way of life that is dominated by water.

I love any discourse of rivers, and fish and fishing.

Around the steel no tortur'd worm shall twine, No blood of living insect stain my line; Let me, less cruel, cast the feather'd hook, With pliant rod athwart the pebbled brook, Silent along the mazy margin stray, And with the fur-wrought fly delude the prey.

Rhine. The river that, somewhere out there, has broken free.

There's no taking trout with dry breeches.

I do fish. I think there is a connection between thinking and fishing mostly because you spend a lot of time up to your waist in water without a whole lot to keep your mind busy.

The library was open for one hour after school let out. I hid there, looking at art books and reading poetry.

Wherever the fish are, that's where we go.

Every city has a town outside with a lake. I pull out my fishing pole and fish. I've been doing that for a long time.

My soul lives in Montana. It's where I fly-fish for trout.

I think I'm always running away from somewhere, and to me, theatre's always felt like a good place to run away to.

I've fished everywhere I've traveled.

I love to fish. I love the peacefulness of being around the water.

I came where the river Ran over stones; My ears knew An early joy. And all the waters Of all the streams Sang in my veins That summer day.

I have known a very good, fisher angle diligently four or six hours for a river carp, and not have a bite.

From its fountains In the mountains, Its rills and its gills; Through moss and through brake, It runs and it creeps For awhile till it sleeps In its own little Lake. And thence at departing, Awakening and starting, It runs through the reeds And away it proceeds, Through meadow and glade, In sun and in shade, And through the wood-shelter, Among crags in its flurry, Helter-skelter, Hurry-scurry.

Oh, that river of wishes, the slippery crocodile dream of it, how it might have carried my body down through all the glittering sand bars to the sea.

Never test the depth of river with both the feet.

We should not forget that when we limp away afflicted through the spirit, it is not to the factory gates or to the corporate steps we pilgrimage. Instead we go to the sea for its salt. We find shade under the sycamores on the great avenues. Or we go to the rivers where water tells us modestly of its own sickness.

What's his offense? Groping for trout in a peculiar river.

The river is everywhere.

All I did was sit on the riverbank handing out river water. After I'm gone, I trust you will notice the river.

Next to prayer, Fishing is the most personal relationship of man.

Try to catch a trout and experience the glorious feeling of letting it go and seeing it swimming away.