They say fish should swim thrice * * * first it should swim in the sea (do you mind me?) then it should swim in butter, and at last, sirrah, it should swim in good claret.
You can hover in the air if you want, or you can push off of something and glide through the air - just like a fish. I also think it is like being a fish, since you can catch food in your mouth easily because it is suspended in the air - just like when you put fish food in a tank - the fish swim up to it, open their mouths, and eat the food.
Are you there vodka? It's me, Chelsea. Please get me out of jail and I promise I will never drink again. Drink and drive. I will never drink and drive again. I may even start my own group fashioned after MADD, Mothers Against Drunk Driving, but I'll call it AWLTDASH, Alcoholics Who Like to Drink and Stay Home.
I swim like a fish and I have an amazing kick.
There is no way to be truly great in this world. We are impaled on the crook of conditioning. A fish that is in the water has no choice that he is. Genius would have it that we swim in sand. We are fish and we drown.
Early religions were like muddy ponds with lots of foliage. Concealed there, the fish of the soul could splash and feed. Eventually, however, religions became aquariums. Then hatcheries. From farm fingerling to frozen fish stick is a short swim.
If you want to drink, have a drink... if you want to drive, then drive... there's nothing worse than having a smash sober.
my thoughts are like quick little fish that swim out of my grasp.
I've always wanted to be able to hold my breath for like, ever, and swim in the water like a fish.
Let an idea swim to the surface like a fish in a pool...let the mind drift to the vision.
I can't swim. I can't drive, either. I was going to learn to drive but then I thought, well, what if I crash into a lake?
Death is like a fisherman, who, having caught a fish in his net, leaves it in the water for a time; the fish continues to swim about, but all the while the net is round it, and the fisherman will snatch it out in his own good time.
In the spirit of debunking racial stereotypes, the one that black people don't like to swim, I'm going to tell you how much I love to swim. I love to swim so much that as an adult, I swim with a coach.
Now that we have learned to fly the air like birds, swim under water like fish, we lack one thing - to learn to live on earth as human beings.
One fish. Two fish. Red fish. Blue fish. Black fish. Blue fish. Old fish. New fish. This one has a little star. This one has a little car. Say! What a lot of fish there are.
What have we here? a man or a fish? dead or alive? A fish: he smells like a fish; a very ancient and fishlike smell; a kind of not of the newest poor-John. A strange fish!