I will not make fish one and flesh of another.

Damn'd neuters, in their middle way of steering, Are neither fish, nor flesh, nor good red herring.

Phone for the fish-knives, Norman As Cook is a little unnerved; You kiddies have crumpled the serviettes And I must have things daintily served.

The oceans are the planet's last great living wilderness, man's only remaining frontier on Earth, and perhaps his last chance to prove himself a rational species.

Virgil Flowers fishes in the St. Croix where I fish for muskies near my house.

No human being, however great, or powerful, was ever so free as a fish