Quotes
Quotes about Man
It was many and many a year ago, In a District styled E.C., That a monster dwelt whom I cam to know By the name of Cannibal Flea, And the brute was possessed with no other thought Than to live--and to live on me.
At early dawn when the air is crisp And you're standing knee deep in a beautiful rip You see a trout rise to an unknown fly Then your heart starts to thump and you wonder why You're a neophyte fly fisherman. You can measure the cast and study the lie Then lengthen the line to make your first try As you check the rod to get a good presentation You hold your breath in solemn anticipation You must be a fly fisherman! The fly floats gently on its way to the trout You know it will "take it" without a doubt. You're all charged up and ready to strike But the fly floats by because something's not right You are still a fly fisherman. You open your fly box and select a new fly Then lengthen the tippet before the next try Change your position to help with the cast And hope you have made the right decision at last Now you are a doubtful fly fisherman.
You wait a moment to settle your nerves Then make your cast with a right hand curve The fly settles down and the float looked good But the trout refused it and there you stood A dejected fly fisherman. You looked things over and were not yet beat Then changed flies again and were ready to repeat The next try was poor because you rushed the cast You hold your breath in solemn anticipation You must be a fly fisherman! The fly floats gently on its way to the trout You know it will "take it" without a doubt. You're all charged up and ready to strike But the fly floats by because something's not right You are still a fly fisherman. You open your fly box and select a new fly Then lengthen the tippet before the next try Change your position to help with the cast And hope you have made the right decision at last Now you are a doubtful fly fisherman.
In our family, there was no clear line between religion and fly fishing. We lived at the junction of great trout rivers in western Montana, and our father was a Presbyterian minister and a fly fisherman who tied his own flies and taught others. He told us about Christ's disciples being fishermen, and we were to assume, as my brother and I did, that all first-class fishermen on the Sea of Galilee were fly fishermen and that John, the favorite, was a dry-fly fisherman.
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.
And for winter fly-fishing it is as useful as an almanac out of date.
Most people have no idea of the giant capacity we can immediately command when we focus all of our resources on mastering a single area of our lives.
The shortest way to do many things is to do only one thing at a time.
Every man with an idea has at least two or three followers.
The folly of one man is the fortune of another.
Even a fool, when he holdeth his peace, is counted wise: and he that shutteth his lips is esteemed a man of understanding.
It is an honour for a man to cease from strife: but every fool will be meddling.
A fool and a wise man are alike both in the starting-place--their birth, and at the post--their death; only they differ in the race of their lives.
The heart of a fool is in his mouth, but the mouth of a wise man is in his heart.
A fool boasts of those who fear him; a wise man's pride is those who respect him.
A fool sees not the same tree that a wise man sees.
Who is more foolish, the child afraid of the dark, or the man afraid of the light?
A mother takes twenty years to make a man of her boy, and another woman makes a fool of him in twenty minutes.
They never open their mouths without subtracting from the sum of human knowledge.
This is the excellent foppery of the world, that when we are sick in fortune, often the surfeits of our own behavior, we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and stars; as if we were villains on necessity; fools by heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and treachers by spherical predominance; drunkards, liars, and adulterers by an enforced obedience of planetary influence; and all that we are evil in, by a divine thrusting on. An admirable evasion of whoremaster man, to lay his goatish disposition on the charge of a star.
When force is necessary, it must be applied boldly, decisively and completely. But one must know the limitations of force; one must know when to blend force with a maneuver, the blow with an agreement.
But my thoughts ran a wool-gathering; and I did like the countryman, who looked for his ass while he was mounted on his back.
A man must get a thing before he can forget it.
The wind blows out, the bubble dies; The spring entomb'd in autumn lies; The dew dries up; the star is shot; The flight is past--and man forgot.
To the sick man the physician when he enters seems to have three faces, those of a man, a devil, a god. When the physician first comes and announces the safety of the patient, then the sick man says: "Behold a God or a guardian angel!" [Lat., Intrantis medici facies tres esse videntur Aegrotanti; hominis, Daemonis, atque Dei. Cum primum accessit medicus dixitque salutem, En Deus aut custos angelus, aeger ait.]
