When Exhausted And Feeling Sorry For Yourself,

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.

We Sat On The Bank And The River Went By. As Always, It Was Making Sounds To Itself, And Now It Made Sounds To Us. It Would Be Hard To Find Three Men Sitting Side By Side Who Knew Better What A River Was Saying.

A Mystery Of The Universe Is How It Has Managed To Survive With So Much Volunteer Help.

Help Is Giving Part Of Yourself To Somebody Who Comes To Accept It Willingly And Needs It Badly.

One Great Thing About Fly Fishing Is That After A While Nothing Exists Of The World But Thoughts About Fly Fishing