Angling is somewhat like poetry, men are to be born so...
Doubtless God Could Have Made A Better Berry, But Doubtless God Never Did.
You will find angling to be like the virtue of humanity, which has a calmness of spirit and a world of blessing attending upon it.
Old-fashioned poetry, but choicely good.
Those little nimble musicians of the air, that warble forth their curious ditties, with which nature hath furnished them to the shame of art.
There are offences given and offences not given but taken.
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.
These poor rich men, we anglers pity them perfectly.
An excellent angler, and now with God.
If you can’t be content with what you have received, be thankful for what you have escaped.
It is agreed by most men, that the Eele is a most daintie fish; the Romans have esteemed her the Helena of their feasts, and some The Queen of pleasure.
Lord, what music hast thou provided for Thy saints in heaven, when Thou affordest bad men such music on earth!
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.
It was wisely said, by a man of great observation, that there are as many miseries beyond riches as on this side of them.
Words are men’s daughters, but God’s sons are things.
We may say of angling, as Dr. Boteler said of strawberries, Doubtless God could have made a better berry, but doubtless God never did; and so, if I might be judge, God never did make a more calm, quiet, innocent recreation than angling.
He that loses his conscience has nothing left that is worth keeping. Therefore be sure you look to that, and in the next place look to your health; and if you have it, praise God and value it next to a good conscience.
This dish of meat is too good for any but anglers, or very honest men.
If all the theories were correct, there wouldn’t be a fish left in all of our lakes and rivers and streams.
The Waters are Nature’s storehouse in which she locks up her wonders...
The great secretary of nature and all learning, Sir Francis Bacon.