Even a dead fish can go with the flow.
I have friends who remember seeing fish hauled onto a boat's deck and beaten to death.
Well, it seems all the fish in the rivers are dying. Could this be an act of cod?
If I were a man with gills, I would be a fish!
The only reason I ever played in the first place was so I could afford to hunt and fish.
I was a typical farm boy. I liked the farm. I enjoyed the things that you do on a farm, go down to the drainage ditch and fish, and look at the crawfish and pick a little cotton.
She is nether fish nor flesh, nor good red herring.
Overtime, hatchery fish tend to show signs of domestication and these traits adapted to the hatchery environment can make it more difficult to survive in the wild.
Damn'd neuters, in their middle way of steering, Are neither fish, nor flesh, nor good red herring.
He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, nor of great fish, nor fights, nor contests of strength, nor of his wife. He only dreamed of places now and the lions on the beach. They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy. He never dreamed about the boy. He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on.
Fish is the only food that is considered spoiled once it smells like what it is.
Hatchery fish have the same colours, but they always seem muted like bad reproductions of great art.
Un-dish-cover the fish, or dishcover the riddle.
God quickened in the Sea and in the Rivers, So many fishes of so many features, That in the waters we may see all Creatures; Even all that on the earth is to be found,! As if the world were in deep waters drowned.
Ye monsters of the bubbling deep, Your Maker's praises spout; Up from the sands ye codlings peep, And wag your tails about.
Our tradition is that of the first man who sneaked away to the creek when the tribe did not really need fish.
Our plenteous streams a various race supply, The bright-eyed perch with fins of Tyrian dye, The silver eel, in shining volumes roll'd, The yellow carp, in scales bedropp'd with gold, Swift trouts, diversified with crimson stains, And pikes, the tyrants of the wat'ry plains.
Cut off my head, and singular I am, Cut off my tail, and plural I appear; Although my middle's left, there's nothing there! What is my head cut off? A sounding sea; What is my tail cut off? A rushing river; And in their mingling depths I fearless play, Parent of sweetest sounds, yet mute forever.
I learned the first night that IHOP's not the place to order fish.
Up to 80 percent of the fish that we catch spend at least part of their lives in estuaries.
Who does not love his own tongue is far worse than a brute or stinking fish.
Dead fish don't swim around in jealous tides.
Scholars have long known that fishing eventually turns men into philosophers. Unfortunately, it is almost impossible to buy decent tackle on a philosopher's salary.
Never leave fish to find fish.
The guerrilla must move amongst the people as a fish swims in the sea.
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