Best 586 quotes in «cats quotes» category

Peter thought that he had noticed the shine of tears in her eyes, though of course it couldn't be so, since he had never heard of cats shedding tears. It was only later he was to learn that they could both laugh and cry.

Pet a cat when you encounter one on the street.

Pets reflect you like mirrors. When you are happy, you can see your dog smiling and when you are sad, your cat cries.

Petkeeping has this been called a ‘misfiring of our parental instincts

Petkeeping has thus been called a ‘misfiring of our parental instincts’.

Pluto was a well-known fixture in Bad Münstereifel, at least among those who lived in the old part of town. A large, foul-tempered, and unsterilized inky-black tomcat, he had once made it onto the front page of the local free paper (admittedly during a quiet week as regards other news) after a resident of the town accused him of making an unprovoked attack on her pet dachshund.

Politicians are like little cats: They are never serious; they always mess up the things; they are fainthearted and spoilt. And when they look at the mirror, they see a tiger there, till the hammer of reality break that mirror very harshly!

Purr more, hiss less

Puss hopped down from the couch and rummaged in Mark’s closet until he found a black leather belt. This he looped along his shoulder, around his waist, and then clasped together. “I’m off to make war, so that you may have love.

Quote taken from Chapter 1: I know what." Isabel reached under the end table, took out the game board, and rattled the Band-Aid box containing the letter tiles. "It's been a week-and-a-half since our last Scrabble game.

Quote is taken from Chapter 1: A decade ago when Isabel’s husband Max had died, they’d moved in together and merged their possessions. Neither sister brought any fussy teapots, canaries, sachets, or doilies, but lots of other stuff had to either stay or go. Looking at the lime green armchair gave Alma the willies. Her suggestion to slipcover it in a more subdued color had garnered Isabel’s frosty stare, and Alma had dropped the matter.

Randall, the gay alcoholic in the house next door, boldly peeps through my windows. 'Boy, you sure rock in that chair a lot,' he said last week, his face pressed against my screen. This time I was lying on my bed with Katherine's cats. I'm watching them while she's out of town. I can be very mushy, and he watched me kissing them and saying that all the other cats in the neighborhood were jealous of their beauty.

Regarding politics: You've got your cats on one side and your dogs on the other. Someone has to walk the fence and feed the animals. —Kinky Friedman

Regaring Politics: You’ve got your cats on one side and your dogs on the other; someone has to walk the fence and feed the animals. —Kinky Friedman

Rowl reminded himself that cats were eternally patient, and that he would not simply explode if he did not fling himself from Littlemouse's arms and go exploring. Which was not to say that he could not do so if he wished, because cats were also their own masters. He decided that his patience was practically legendary- which was fortunate...

Roen said, "I can't quit. I have rent, and a cat to support.

Severin made a noise that sounded like “chuff,” his cat whiskers jutting forward with the sound. Elle froze, her bread halfway to her mouth. Did the cursed prince just emit the cat equivalent of a snort? Prince Severin nibbled on a grape, ignoring or not noticing Elle’s awe.

Sakaki: "...Why can't we just talk it over...?" Tomo: "You can't talk to cats.

Rousseau pounced. Men who dislike cats were tyrannical: "They do not like cats because the cat is free and will never consent to become a slave.

Rowl felt sure that Bridget's fragile feelings would be crushed if he denied her the pleasure of sharing her meat with him.

She fell on the bread and cheese as if she were a lioness. Did lions eat cheese? He didn’t know. He knew Mrs Prater’s kitten ate cheese. He ate anything. Poor bloody animal. Still, he was a slum cat, no reason why his life should be better than a humans' sad ruddy existence.

She drowned all of the catnip mice in Nike's water bowl and I had to take them away after he began drinking the resulting 'nip tea, wearing overalls, and changing all the songs in my favorites playlist to the Grateful Dead.

She had other friends--friends that wouldn't leave her. She had the cats.

She hadn't meant to fall asleep, but she was a bit like a cat herself, forever wandering in the woods, chasing after squirrels and rabbits as fast as her skinny legs could take her when the fancy struck, climbing trees like a possum, able to doze in the sun at a moment's notice. And sometimes with no notice at all.

She hadn't meant to fall asleep, but she was a bit like a cat herself, forever wandering in the woods, chasing after squirrels and rabbits as fast as her skinny legs could take her when the fancy struck, climbing trees like a possum, able to doze in the sun at a moment's notice. And sometimes with no notice at all. (This text is originally from A Circle of Cats, which was revised and re-adapted by the author for The Cats of Tanglewood Forest)

She hops expectantly into the sink. I turn on the tap for her; she laps without a glance in my direction, like a duchess so used to being ministered to that she no longer notices the servants and sees only a world where objects dumbly bend to her wishes, doors opening, faucets discharging cool water, delicious things appearing in her dish.

She is still typing away when Monique bangs into the apartment, slams her bag on the table and says, "If I were a cat, my ears would be straight back right now.

She's put him out like a cat a million times, but like a cat he has a habit of slinking back and curling up into the warm corners of her mind.

She loves the smell of his fur, all warm and musky and cat-spit clean.

She's a skilled and swift fight, and I know she'll pass on her training on to you.

She smiled, took my hand, and led me upstairs to her bedroom. An elderly cat with gray curly fur used a set of cat stairs to join us on the bed.

Sirius looked about as intelligent as the temple cats who liked to chase their own tails.

She will not die today. I won't let her.

sleeping in the rain helps me forget things like I am going to die and you are going to die and the cats are going to die but it's still good to stretch out and know you have arms and feet and a head, hands, all the parts, even eyes to close once more, it really helps to know these things, to know your advantages and your limitations, but why do the cats have to die, I think that the world should be full of cats and full of rain, that's all, just cats and rain, rain and cats, very nice, good night.

So may all your wives, if you need them, be rich and pretty; and all your husbands, if you want them, be young and virile; and all your cats as wily, perspicacious and resourceful as: Puss-in-Boots!

Snowball?" It's white." Meow." It's so girly." This from a guy who named his poodle Princess." his laughter died. "How do you know about Princess?" Your sister told me.

Some cats are angry at being called cats. To achieve peace with them, never call them by their real name

Sometimes I like her calm, unwild, gentle as a sleeping child, and wonder as she lies, a fur ring, curled upon my lap, unstirring -- is it me or Tibbles purring?

Some people scorn a cat and think it not an essential; but the Clemens tribe are not of these.

Sometimes she could swear that she saw, in Joe Grey's eyes, a judgment far too perceptive, a watchfulness too aware and intense for any cat. Charlie didn't understand what it was about those two [cats]. Both had a presence that set them apart from other felines. Maybe she just knew them better. Maybe all cats had that quality of awareness, when you knew them.

Sometimes they just appear in your life, cats.

Some were drawn towards displays of physical showboating, when it came to cats, while others preferred subtle intellectual stimulation.

Somewhere in the ruins above them, the cats are howling.

So Nikki came aboard as Jaqueline's spare cat, presumably in case our prime cat, Eliza, goes on vacation, takes industrial action, or requests a personal day.

Sophronia and Dimity took a vacant love seat at the front, Sophronia dislodging a large, fluffy cat with a scrunched-up face. The cat gave her a disgusted look. Or seemed to; it was hard to tell with that face.

Sophie knew about power animals,everyone did...Sophie thought she might be a cat, she liked cats a lot.

Sorry about the squishy in your shoe. Must've been something I ate.

...staring into thin air at those things only cats can see.

So what about the cats?” “What about them?” “The cats he killed. He killed all those cats. Dumped them in the tank.” “So he didn’t like cats.” “With a slingshot.” “They were strays. Nobody missed them.” “But you don’t kill cats. That’s not normal.” Rino shrugged. “Cats are cats.

So, what’s the issue with Unicorns?” “Imagine a cat,” Rose said. “Not just a cat, but a cat that is such a cat, other cats come to it for cat lessons. Take a thousand cats, refine them down to a single drop of pure essence of cat, and make a whole cat out of the stuff.” I shivered. “Ewww. And that’s a Unicorn?” “No,” she said. “That’s an Elf. A Unicorn is a thousand times worse. An Elf you can reason with.