A candle burning at both ends will not last the night, but oh my foes and oh my friends it makes a lovely sight.
And I knew just as surely and just as clearly that life is not a work of art and that the moment could not last.
And there could be no better place to learn than the Montana of my youth.
Either we do not know what part of ourselves to give, or, more often than not, the part we have to give is not wanted. So it is those who we live with and love and should know that elude us. But we can still reach out to them, we can love completely without complete understanding.
eventually all things merge into one, and a river runs through it.
Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world’s great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters.
I am haunted by waters.
I said that maybe I really didn’t know anything about Paul, and he said you know more than that – he was beautiful. And that was the last time we spoke of my brother’s death.
I’m never leaving Montana brother.
I’m not buster, he’s the one with the red ass.
If he had his way, nobody who did not know how to catch a fish would be allowed to disgrace a fish by catching it.
In my family, there was no clear division between religion and fly fishing.
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.
It is those we live with and love and should know who elude us.
Like many fly fisherman 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 the Arctic half-light of the canyon,all existance 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. Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world’s great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of thoses rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters.
Methodists are just Baptists who can read.
My father was very sure about certain matters pertaining to the universe. To him, all good things, trout as well as eternal salvation, came by grace and grace comes by art, and art does not come easy.
Norman’s not funny.
Oh Norman……It’s the berries!
Oh, I’ll never leave Montana, brother.
One reason Paul caught more fish than anyone else was that he had his flies in the water more than anyone else. Brother, he would say, there are no flying fish in Montana. Out here, you can’t catch fish with your flies in the air.
Paul was different. His toughness came from somewhere deep inside. He simply knew he was tougher than anyone else alive.
Paul: Thank you oh merciful professor of poetry and trout!
Red can, Hills Bros, I’d lay a bet on it.
Thank you oh merciful professor of poetry and trout!
that is wack
The world is full of bastards – the number ever increasing the further one gets from MISSOULA MONTANA!
Three things you can never be late for in Montana Dinner, Church, and fishing
Well she’s got a tatoo…
whats the matter?—-Norman’s not funny.
Why is it that the people who need the most help wont take it?
Woman: Iâ€™m as dry as a doornail, buster
Paul: Hark! Fair Juliet speaks.
You can love completely, but without complete understanding.
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