“I keep a fish in each pocket, and one in my left shoe, so I don’t drown in your love.”

“If I can’t see the bottom, I don’t know how much is left. Why does my love have to be so thick? I suppose because it keeps the engine of your heart running smooth.
”

“Love is like a banana, and I keep it in my pocket on cold days to warm up my hand.”

“You can’t walk away from someone you love, leave them drowning in your desertion. If love has no more meaning than that, you can keep it. I don’t want it now or ever again. Don’t want to hear the word or wear its scars.”

“Dancing? Not only do I have two left feet, but they’re different sizes. And I don’t put them in shoes—I store them in glass jars in my basement.”

“I fish because I love to . . . because I love the environs where trout are found . . . because I suspect that men are going along this way for the last time, and I for one don’t want to waste the trip . . . and, finally, not because I regard fishing as being so terribly important but because I suspect that so many of the other concerns of men are equally unimportant––and not nearly so much fun.”