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… — Norman Maclean Copy Share Image
At the time I did not know that stories of life are often more like rivers than books. — Norman Maclean Copy Share Image
“In this story of the outside world and the inside world with a fire between, the outside world of little screwups recedes now for… — Norman Maclean Copy Share Image
Probably most catastrophes end this way without an ending, the dead not even knowing how they died...,those who loved them forever questioning "this unnecessary… — Norman Maclean Copy Share Image
If our father had had his way, nobody who did not know how to fish would be allowed to disgrace a fish by catching him. — Norman Maclean Copy Share
“I sat there and forgot and forgot, until what remained was the river that went by and I who watched... Eventually the watcher joined the river, and there was only one of us. I believe it was the river. Even the anatomy of a river was laid bare. Not far downstream was a dry channel where the river had run… — Norman Maclean Copy Share
Unless we are willing to escape into sentimentality or fantasy, often the best we can do with catastrophes, even our own, is to find… — Norman Maclean Copy Share Image
As for my father, I never knew whether he believed God was a mathematician but he certainly believed God could count and that only… — Norman Maclean Copy Share Image
“On the Big Blackfoot River above the mouth of Belmont Creek the banks are fringed by large Ponderosa pines. In the slanting sun of… — Norman Maclean Copy Share Image
