I have other fish to fry.

I have other fish to fry.

One that is neither flesh not fish.

One that is neither flesh not fish.

Phone for the fish-knives, Norman
As Cook is a little unnerved;
You kiddies have crumpled the serviettes
read more

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.

"Will you walk a little faster?" said a whiting to a snail,
"There's a porpoise close behind us, and read more

"Will you walk a little faster?" said a whiting to a snail,
"There's a porpoise close behind us, and he's treading on my
tail!
See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance:
They are waiting on the shingle--will you come and join the
dance?"

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

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

God quickened in the Sea and in the Rivers,
So many fishes of so many features,
That read more

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.

Here when the labouring fish does at the foot arrive,
And finds that by his strength but vainly he read more

Here when the labouring fish does at the foot arrive,
And finds that by his strength but vainly he doth strive;
His tail takes in his teeth, and bending like a bow,
That's to the compass drawn, aloft himself doth throw:
Then springing at his height, as doth a little wand,
That, bended end to end, and flerted from the hand,
Far off itself doth cast. so does the salmon vaut.
And if at first he fail, his second summersaut
He instantly assays and from his nimble ring,
Still yarking never leaves, until himself he fling
Above the streamful top of the surrounded heap.

When fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was read more

When fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood
Then surely I was born.
With monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil's walking parody
On all four-footed things.

One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter's brother, saith unto
him,
There is a lad here, which hath read more

One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter's brother, saith unto
him,
There is a lad here, which hath five barley loaves, and two small
fishes: but what are they among so many?