Cats Quotes - Page 5

When the cat's away the mice will play.

Cats are a mysterious kind of folk.

John and I noticed that whenever we talked about our children Wystan reached for his cats.

When you set out, you were four. Six with friends who could not stay behind. Now you are one.

And the Lady's mate. Despite having only two legs and small fangs, there was much that was feline in that one, and he approved.

You put quite a fight for a tame kitty

While most people love certain species to pieces (e.g. cats and dogs), others are more loved in pieces (e.g. cows and pigs)

I Like this quote I dislike this quote“My house is run, essentially, by an adopted, fully clawed cat with a mean nature.

Ty rested his hand on Zane’s chest again and closed his eyes. Zane turned his head with infinite care and kissed Ty’s forehead.Wesson gave him a warning growl.“Mine,” Zane told the cat.

Your tummy, soft aswarm dough. I knead and knead, thenbake it with a nap.

The trees around and overhead were so thick that it was always dry inside and on Sunday morning I lay there with Jonas, listening to his stories. All cat stories start with the statement: "My mother, who was the first cat, told me this," and I lay with my head close to Jonas and listened. There was no change coming, I thought here, only spring; I was wrong to be so frightened. The days would get warmer, and Uncle Julian would sit in the sun, and Constance would laugh when she worked in the garden, and it would always be the same. Jonas went on and on ("And then we sang! And then we sang!") and the leaves moved overhead and it would always be the same.

A cat chooses its owner, not the other way around.

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.

I love cats because I enjoy my home; and little by little, they become its visible soul.

Not fooling around, not bothering nobody, just sitting here mending the Primus," said the cat with a hostile frown, "and, moreover, I consider it my duty to warn you that the cat is an ancient, inviolable animal.

The way to get on with a cat is to treat it as an equal - or even better, as the superior it knows itself to be.

Dogs were not loyal but servile, that cats were opportunists and traitors,

The approval of a cat cannot but flatter the recipient.

my cat is always looking at me like i am forgetting something crucial and he depends on it

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.

Fluttershyes are like regular shyes, only shinier, and, apparently - also shyer. Whenever petted - they don't flutter, but run away instead.

The Pekes and the Pollicles, everyone knows, Are proud and implacable, passionate foes;It is always the same, wherever one goes.And the Pugs and the Poms, although most people saythat they do not like fighting, will often displayEvery symptom of wanting to join in the fray.And theyBark bark bark bark bark barkUntil you can hear them all over the park.

The domesticated cat in many homes is a friend, a companion, a family member. It is seen as a symbol of grace and poise both in ancient Egypt and in modern society. Women are oft described as cats as men are described as dogs in metaphor as well. Religious adoration of cats was also in ancient Egypt.1 So in some aspects they have, at least, a religious context. This, though, is not what one should look at primarily for a clear indication of their connection to religion. They are examples of a spectrum of how natural spirituality had developed over time.

Before a Cat will condescendTo treat you as a trusted friend,Some little token of esteemIs needed, like a dish of cream;And you might now and then supplySome caviare, or Strassburg Pie,Some potted grouse, or salmon paste —He's sure to have his personal taste.(I know a Cat, who makes a habitOf eating nothing else but rabbit,And when he's finished, licks his pawsSo's not to waste the onion sauce.)A Cat's entitled to expectThese evidences of respect.And so in time you reach your aim,And finally call him by his name.

I hate cats."Death's face became a little stiffer, if that were possible. The blue glow in his eye sockets flickered red for an instant."I SEE," he said. The tone suggested that death was too good for cat haters.

My darling, what a cat they have! Something perfectly stupendous. Siamese, in colour dark beige, or taupe, with chocolate paws and the tail the same. Moreover, his tail is comparatively short, so his croup has something of a little dog, or rather, a kangaroo, and that’s its colour, too. And that special silkiness of short fur, and some very tender white tints on its folds, and wonderful clear-blue eyes, turning transparently green towards evening, and a pensive tenderness of its walk, a sort of heavenly circumspection of movement. An amazing, sacred animal, and so quiet – it’s unclear what he is looking at with those eyes filled to the brim with sapphire water.

He doesn't seem very impressed," Cimorene commented in some amusement."Why should he be?" Kazul said."Well, you're a dragon," Cimorene answered, a little taken aback."What difference does that make to a cat?

I walked through the house to the back porch and found the screen door covered top to bottom, side to side, with cats meowing for food. . . . They were so thick on the door I could barely see the light between them.

And indeed there will be timeTo wonder, 'Do I shed?' and, 'Do I shed?'Time to turn back and stretch out on the bed,And give myself a bath before I'm fed --(They will say: 'It's the short-haired ones I prefer.')My flea collar buckled neatly in my fur,My expression cool and distant but softened by a gentle purr --(They will say: 'I'm allergic to his fur!')Do I dareJump up on the table?In an instant there is timeFor excursions and inversions that will make me seem unst

If cats could count, they’d start getting nervous around the time they put paid to their fifth life.

The white cat Sal-al was lying on the straw matting in the empty conservatory. She looked at us with a wicked, conceited expression as if all her appetites had just been satisfied. She was beautiful. Vesta and I both said, "I wish I were a cat!" Before we got to the last word we smiled at each other in annoyance, not liking the idea that most human beings think very much alike.

I DON'T HOLD WITH CRUELTY TO CATS.

I am sad for the dead and I am sad for the livingbut not for my 5 cats

If man could be crossed with a cat, it would improve man but deteriorate the cat.

People skills are useless with cats, because cats are immune to training, and do whatever they decide in any situation... And most importantly they aren’t human.

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.

Old Deuteronomy's lived a long time;He's a Cat who has lived many lives in succession.He was famous in proverb and famous in rhymeA long while before Queen Victoria's accession.Old Deuteronomy's buried nine wivesAnd more – I am tempted to say, ninety-nine;And his numerous progeny prospers and thrivesAnd the village is proud of him in his decline.At the sight of that placid and bland physiognomy,When he sits in the sun on the vicarage wall,The Oldest Inhabitant croaks: "Well, of all … Things … Can it be … really! … No! … Yes! … Ho! hi!Oh, my eye!My mind may be wandering, but I confess I believe it is Old Deuteronomy!"Old Deuteronomy sits in the street,He sits in the High Street on market day;The bullocks may bellow, the sheep they may bleat,But the dogs and the herdsman will turn them away.The cars and the lorries run over the kerb,And the villagers put up a notice: ROAD CLOSED —So that nothing untoward may chance to disturbDeuteronomy's rest when he feels so disposedOr when he's engaged in domestic economy:And the Oldest Inhabitant croaks: "Well of all …Things … Can it be … really! … No! … Yes! …Ho! hi!Oh, my eye!My sight's unreliable, but I can guessThat the cause of the trouble is Old Deuteronomy!

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

It would seem very silly to start a conversation with a common hedgehog. They are not at all like cats, who surely understand the human language.

There are two means of refuge from the misery of life — music and cats.

Cats never weep, she told herself, no more than wolves. It's just a stupid dream.

Er, excuse me,' said the man as Nanny Ogg turned away, 'but what is that on your shoulders?''It's. . . a fur collar,' said Nanny.'Excuse me, but I just saw it flick its tail.''Yes. I happen to believe in beauty without cruelty.

I wrote a book on cats. In retrospect, I should have used paper, cause chapter six got hit by a car.

Behold the day-break!I awaken you by sitting on your chest and purring in your face,I stir you with muscular paw-prods, I rouse you with toe-

No matter how much the cats fight, there always seem to be plenty of kittens.

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

When I later discovered that she (illustrator Faith Jaques) was a compulsive reader who loved to be alone and kept cats because they are the only pets that allow you to be both, my adoration of Jaques and her work could only increase.

If you want to concentrate deeply on some problem, and especially some piece of writing or paper-work, you should acquire a cat. Alone with the cat in the room where you work ... the cat will invariably get up on your desk and settle placidly under the desk lamp ... The cat will settle down and be serene, with a serenity that passes all understanding. And the tranquility of the cat will gradually come to affect you, sitting there at your desk, so that all the excitable qualities that impede your concentration compose themselves and give your mind back the self-command it has lost. You need not watch the cat all the time. Its presence alone is enough. The effect of a cat on your concentration is remarkable, very mysterious.

When the man was disgraced and told to go away, he was allowed to ask all the animals whether any of them would come with him and share his fortunes and his life. There were only two who agreed to come entirely of their own accord, and they were the dog and the cat. And ever since then, those two have been jealous of each other, and each is for ever trying to make man choose which one he likes best. Every man prefers one or the other.

Dovepaw made a mess of the hunting, true. But she ran to help a Clanmate in trouble when she had no idea what danger she would have to face on the other side of that bramble thicket. And when we couldn't get Icecloud out of the hole, she was quick to volunteer to be lowered down to help her, even though no cat really knew what might have been down there.

A cat's rage is beautiful, burning with pure cat flame, all its hair standing up and crackling blue sparks, eyes blazing and sputtering.

Her ears, lightly fringed with white that looked silver, lifted and moved, back, forward, listening and sensing. Her face turned, slightly, after each new sensation, alert. Her tail moved, in another dimension, as if its tip was catching messages her other organs could not. She sat poised, air-light, looking, hearing, feeling, smelling, breathing, with all of her, fur, whiskers, ears -- everything, in delicate vibration.

Even a heart of a kitten is reliable, if you know how to rely on

Of all God's creatures, there is only one that cannot be made slave of the leash. That one is the cat. If man could be crossed with the cat it would improve the man, but it would deteriorate the cat.

I think I would rather have a cat than a sweetheart, after all. They are less trouble, and even the handsomest sweetheart is sadly lacking in fur.

Cats will be cats.

He might be living on mice, but Chesterton does not look like an animal who is governed by his appetites. He's an ascetic, if Cathbad ever saw one.

I have a cat, the pet that ranks just above a throw pillow in terms of required responsibility.

Mountain lions are psychological animals, preying on the mind with secret eyes. They know that they still dominate, that they cannot be cornered without ripping their way out. They know that they are still the heart of firceness. Being pack animals ourselves, we humans have some alliance with other pack animals, like wolves or coyotes. When I see a free wolf, I feel as if we could sit down and talk, given that the details have been worked out. Not so with the cat. The cat speaks in symbols.

The best about cats is they love cannot feign...