There Was Never An Angler Who Lived

Jealously Was An Unjust And Stifling Thing.

There Was Never An Angler Who Lived But That There Was A Fish Capable Of Taking The Conceit Out Of Him.

These Critics Who Crucify Me Do Not Guess The Littlest Part Of My Sincerity. They Must Be Burned In A Blaze. I Cannot Learn From Them.

Fishermen, No Matter What Supreme Good Fortune Befalls Them, Cannot Ever Be Absolutely Satisfied. It Is A Fundamental Weakness Of Intellect.

I Can Write Best In The Silence And Solitude Of The Night, When Everyone Has Retired.