Fennel Hudson Quotes

How is your handwriting?" I ask. "Do you write in pencil or pen?" They stare back at me with squinting eyes and a look that needs no words. "Get with it granddad.

Be oblivious to city high-rises, work-related stress and microwave popcorn.

A spectator would conclude that I was living in the past. But I was very much living in the present. My present.

Time alone can help us to look inward, to fish for things that others can't see.

We are all Clapping Monkeys, but while some of us smile, others look around to see if anyone has noticed.

Listen to your heart, not your head.

It seems that, depending upon which side of the thesaurus-writer's gaze we sit, one's uniqueness can be deemed to be either eccentric or distinctive. Both, in my opinion, are good.

Believe in something important. Pursue it wholeheartedly.

Choice is the mortar that binds together the things that make us who we are.

Vintage fountain pens have provenance that makes a traditionalist go weak at the knuckles.

Night fishing accentuates the atmosphere of a lake. It is as if, once darkness falls, the character of the pool announces, "I am here.

You have to feel the bite of the wind to appreciate the warmth of a winter coat.

I propose that it only matters that you attempt to catch a fish. Doing so brings you close to nature.

I like working among 'creative clutter'. It gives me a sense of activity and achievement.

It's ironic that those who lack self-confidence are often the ones who find it hardest to say no.

There's no such thing as 'not enough time' out here in the woods. I don't even have a watch. Time is my own, categorised as nothing more than 'morning, afternoon, evening and night'.

Satnav will get us quickly and all-too-predictably from A to B, but the path of life is more interesting when we're allowed to explore the side streets.

The greatest gifts are those that say, "I know you".

Life is a wonderfully fine thing. Go live it.

Water is intrinsically linked to the mystery and excitement of discovering new worlds.

Fine Things are reservoirs for the heart.

Enjoy being you. Have fun. And be different.

Why should we change that which makes us unique?

Smile, tip your traditional hat, and enjoy your time by the water.

I like tea so much that I'm considering changing my name to Bergamot so that I can exist in a perpetual state of Earl Grey contentment.

Proper writing ink comes in a bottle, can be swirled like brandy in a glass, and smells like apple blossom after rain.

Mine is a so-called vintage existence, anachronistic living, made all the more rewarding by keeping a raised eyebrow on the absurdities of modern life.

All I really want is for our world to become increasingly more beautiful.

I am circling, looking for something within my reach, but beyond my grasp.

Some will say that searching for your dreams is like looking for unicorns in an emerald forest.

Pride of place in my wardrobe is an Edwardian-style Norfolk Jacket in Derby Tweed. It is silk-lined with leather-clad buttons and has a smell that reminds me of wet moss and fallen leaves.

Truth, as I have learned, is difficult to ignore.

I'm in no hurry to do anything. I'll probably lie here for the rest of the day. (Great term, that, 'rest of the day'.)

If a pen can communicate our thoughts, dreams, and emotions and be the voice of our soul, then ink is the medium that carries the message.

A man is biologically incapable of giving 'the look'.

Putting pen to paper without first deciding the route and pace at which to scribe is like setting off on a bicycle without first checking the tyres.

Catching fish is secondary to the immeasurable joys of the watery world.

If we spend enough time dreaming, then the dream might eventually become real.

A letter allows us to travel through time.

Angling is just a way of relaxing and escaping in the countryside.

I needed some space to lay myself out, so that I could decide which pieces I wanted to pick up.

If ever the adventure proves tiring, or you lose sight of your dream, look to the west at sunset. There, on days when the skies are clear, you might see upon the horizon a thin layer of amber mist. When it appears, you will know its purpose: it is the mist of believing.

Organic life cannot be far from water.

Reality is in the ether, a blend of present-day experiences infused with one's memories and dreams. A life that is real to one is surreal to another.

I'm pretty sure I'm the only author who intends to take the longest possible route to a destination that will always be over the next hill.

Identity and self-belief: a courage that swells from within, borne of waters drunk deeply.

As with writing by candlelight, one's greatest ideas come from 'the flickering' between darkness and light.

Playing safe, hiding among the masses, will rarely get you noticed.

Rural and traditional escapism. That's my angle. Places and events where we are free to relax and be ourselves, where nobody tells us to hurry along or conform or grow up. Somewhere we can properly live.

We seek not for forgiveness, but the freedom and time to do more than 'exist'.

Michelin Star? I'd rather chew a French rubber tyre.

We should be authentic: the 'real deal'. Neither a clone nor mimic be.

It is possible to be happy and successful by living on one's own terms.

Water creates so much beauty, life and mystery.

Life. It's about adventure, of having a dream and following it.

Life's a simple thing; it's we who insist on making it complicated.

Only the present exists. The past is gone, and the future has not yet happened. There is only ever time present.

No more selfishness. Just a balanced, contented, and richly meaningful life.

I am happiest sitting against a tree, with my notebook or sketchpad on my knee, capturing the moment.

Individuality and creativity are slowly dampened by a normal job with normal people.

I like to send letters. I love to receive them. I could never throw away a letter.

Where the writing takes place doesn't matter to a publisher, but it matters a great deal to the author.

The past informs the present.

The real world, in my opinion, exists in the countryside, where Nature goes about her quiet business and brings us greatest pleasure.

Catching fish is low on my agenda when I go fishing. I'm much more interested in savouring the day and exploring the wildlife of the river.

People fish because they are searching for something. Often it is not for a fish.

There's never been a map. Only a compass whose dial always knows where it's pointing.

Stand up for your beliefs, and be different.

Having a fishing rod in your hand is merely an excuse to explore out-of-sight depths and reveal mysteries that previously only existed in dreams.

Most of us, at some time or other, get sucked into the lifeless vacuum of work; the cogs of the corporate machine that we keep turning until one day, when we depart this Earth, we may earn the word 'lubricant' on our headstone.

Angling is a recreation. It's supposed to be fun.

Dive deep and make your discovery.

The degree to which we notice the obvious or the subtle, and the angle of light that we see falling upon it, depends upon how closely we look and the time we spend studying.

Imagination is the real magic that exists in this world. Look inwards, to see outwards. And capture it in writing.

The world grows ever complex. More urban. Less peaceful.

After being still for so long, I am incapable of moving quicker than ivy growing over a rock.

I am not at work, or at the supermarket, or waiting for a bus (metaphorically or otherwise). I am free.

I'm a classic eccentric, living at the extremes of high mania and low mood. There's no middle ground, only madness and sadness.

Leaps of faith tend to favour those with long legs.

There's much sentiment and educational value to be found in our inherited traditions.

Preserve the spirit of a 'lost' age, when time moved slower.

The wild carp is an icon that forges a living connection between the past and the present.

Change, it seems, is inevitable. And so is compromise.

Have courage to go your own way and fulfil the dreams that are unique and important to you.

A perpetual world; a world within a world. Of my mind and outside my mind. The real world is the dream world.

Creative people need strong encouragement.

Having a 'taste for life' is about knowing its various flavours and awaiting the next meal.

As an angler and a gardener, I cherish each drop of rain that falls.

December, being the last month of the year, cannot help but make us think of what is to come.

Traditional angling is the antithesis of the modern specimen angling scene.

To not use a talent to the best of your ability is to stifle the thing that makes you most special. It is like plucking the wings off a butterfly.

Be batty, be traditional, and be proud.

When my heart tells me that something is right, there's rarely an opportunity for logic to intervene. I go with my instinct, and see where it leads.

Mind games contain only inner demons.

Time is not something to be killed. Doing so suffocates a part of us, writing off part of our life that could, or rather should, be spent doing something meaningful.

Could an angler go fishing without a fishing rod, line and hook? It depends what they're fishing for.

It was a country life, a precious existence.

What I am interested in, what I write and care about, exists in the slow lane, somewhere between hand-ploughed fields and a pint of real ale.

Throughout history people have gazed at the skies in wonder. You only have to stand at the base of a church steeple to understand why.

Old buildings whisper to us in the creaking of floorboards and rattling of windowpanes.