Quotes & Sayings About Cat Eyes

The cat's not hurting you, Oscar. Get a grip."
"Mistress, make it stop looking at me!"
I pulled up to a stoplight and assessed my posse.
"Cat, stop it. Oscar doesn't want to be your friend." At the sound of my voice, the feline shifted it's gaze to me.
"There," I said to Oscar. "All better."
Keeping its eyes on me, the cat moved with stealthy determination, climbing into Oscar's lap.
"Mistress!"
"Stop it, both of ya'll," I said as the light changed. — Juliet Blackwell

We are shut up in school and college recitation rooms for ten to fifteen years, and come out at last with a bellyful of words and do not know a thing. We cannot use our hands, or our legs, or our eyes, or our arms. We do not know an edible root in the woods. We cannot tell our course by the stars, nor the hour of day by the sun. It is well if we can swim and skate. We are afraid of a horse or a cow, of a dog, of a cat, of a spider. Far better was the Roman rule to teach a boy nothing that he could not learn standing. — Ralph Waldo Emerson

I think that if you keep your eyes and your ears open and you are receptive to learning, there are skills you can get from any job at all. — Cat Deeley

Like cats' eyes gleaming in the gloom, the precious diamonds rest. — Robert B. Leighton

I remember. All of it. And it hurts. More than I'd ever thought possible.
I know where I am and what I've done and why I can't move or speak or open my eyes. And I'm scared.
It was all a terrible mistake.
I'd like not to be here. I'd like to go home now.
Please.
Please — Cat Clarke

An hour would be enough. An hour with my head on the pillow beside yours, foreheads touching, eyes locked with eyes (just the two of us, mind you, minus that sodding cat); an hour to smell the smell of you - garlic and all, I wouldn't mind, no, I wouldn't mind. An hour to press you close the whole length of our bodies and feel the shudder of your laugh. An hour to tell you I'm so glad I knew you. An hour, just an hour. I have time now like hedgehogs have fleas: I an lose it, waste it, squander it, kill it, and there will still be more to follow, but that hour I'll never have. Never. — A.P.

Shaking my head, I watched the cat run under the van and stare at us with black
eyes. I wasn't a cat person. They always seemed like they were secretly plotting
the destruction of the human race. And despite the cutesy name Zoe had given it,
this one struck me as slightly evil. — Erin Lynn

What do you think, boy? is he just another lying bastard, or what?' 'Prrrt,' the cat said on a rising intonation, his eyes closed to slits. 'I thought you'd say that. I agree, I know how to pick them, — Val McDermid

Baker's point of view: Femi directed her cat eyes to me with a devious glint in them. "So you've been banging the boss's daughter." I choked on my sandwich. She raised an eyebrow. "That's pretty gutsy, Baker." Holden pinched the bridge of his nose and an angry vein popped out of his forehead. — Liz Schulte

If a Manx cat tells you that it is trying to preserve its long, beautiful tail, you don't have to believe it - especially if you have eyes. — Idries Shah

Zane rolled his eyes, glad he had come alone. Hell of a negotiator John would be. He would have given the whole damn company away and they'd all have been working for his father, God help them.
"So, how long?" John asked.
"I hope soon. With any luck he 'll have something for me to sign tomorrow. I'm going to hang here tonight, unless we get called in." It wouldn't kill him to sleep under his father's roof for one night, probably. That would also give time for the required show of good faith: the date with Missy.
"So that will be it then, a signed contract and we're good to go?"
"That's it." A signed contract and Zane's bachelorhood, if his father had his way. — Cat Johnson

What was this passion that attacked women for knitting under the most unpropitious conditions? A woman did not look her best knitting; the absorption, the glassy eyes, the restless, busy fingers! One needed the agility of a wild cat, and the will-power of a Napoleon to manage to knit in a crowded tube, but women managed it! If they succeeded in obtaining a seat, out came a miserable little strip of shrimp pink and click, click went the pins! — Agatha Christie

Kizzy wanted to be a woman who would dive off the prow of a sailboat into the sea, who would fall back in a tangle of sheets, laughing, and who could dance a tango, lazily stroke a leopard with her bare foot, freeze an enemy's blood with her eyes, make promises she couldn't possibly keep, and then shift the world to keep them. She wanted to write memoirs and autograph them at a tiny bookshop in Rome, with a line of admirers snaking down a pink-lit alley. She wanted to make love on a balcony, ruin someone, trade in esoteric knowledge, watch strangers as coolly as a cat. She wanted to be inscrutable, have a drink named after her, a love song written for her, and a handsome adventurer's small airplane, champagne-christened Kizzy, which would vanish one day in a windstorm in Arabia so that she would have to mount a rescue operation involving camels, and wear an indigo veil against the stinging sand, just like the nomads.
Kizzy wanted. — Laini Taylor

They may have convinced you all these years that you are nothing, unworthy of love, but I am telling you you are, and I love you." His eyes flared a deep green color and he leaned in closer to her. "You are starved for it, Lady Graven, starved, just as much as I am. — Cat Porter

From his soft fur, golden and brown, Goes out so sweet a scent, one night I might have been embalmed in it By giving him one little pet. He is my household's guardian soul; He judges, he presides, inspires All matters in his royal realm; Might he be fairy? or a god? When my eyes, to this cat I love Drawn as by a magnet's force, Turn tamely back upon that appeal, And when I look within myself, I notice with astonishment The fire of his opal eyes, Clear beacons glowing, living jewels, Taking my measure, steadily. — Charles Baudelaire

Try a little experiment. Close your eyes and say to yourself: "I wonder what my next thought is going to be." Then become very alert and wait for the next thought. Be like a cat watching a mouse hole. What thought is going to come out of the mouse hole? Try it now. — Eckhart Tolle

Fireheart tensed, waiting for whatever had hunted down these apprentices to emerge from the trees and attack, but nothing stirred. Feeling as if his legs hardly belonged to him, he sprang down and stumbled across to Swiftpaw.
The apprentice lay on his side, his legs splayed out. His black-and-white fur was torn, and his body was covered with dreadful wounds, ripped by teeth far bigger than any cat's. His jaws still snarled and his eyes glared. He was dead, and Fireheart could see that he had died fighting. — Erin Hunter

Where is your false, your treacherous, and cursed wife?"
"She's gone forrard to the Police Office," returns Mr Bucket. "You'll see her there, my dear."
"I would like to kiss her!" exclaims Mademoiselle Hortense, panting tigress-like. "You'd bite her, I suspect," says Mr Bucket.
"I would!" making her eyes very large. "I would love to tear her, limb from limb."
"Bless you, darling," says Mr Bucket, with the greatest composure; "I'm fully prepared to hear that. Your sex have such a surprising animosity against one another, when you do differ. — Charles Dickens

So tell me something, how did you do that earlier trick?"
Ravyn grimaced. "What trick?"
"The cat thing. How did you switch?"
Why did humans always want that question answered? Even if he explained it, it wasn't like they could do it. "It's magick," he said sarcastically. "I mumble hocus-pocus and the next thing you know, I'm a cat."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "I suppose it's a step up. The last guy I had in my house could only turn into a beer-drinking Pig. — Sherrilyn Kenyon

Will you allow this, Keir of the Cat?"

Keir's face was bland, but I could see the storm in his eyes. After a long moment, he turned to me. "Lara?"

"My oaths require that I treat any that ask it of me," I responded. "You are my Warlord, Keir of the Cat. I respect that you are concerned for my safety. Please respect my oaths in return. Besides," I smiled at him, "it's a tent. If I so much as breathe hard, you will slash your way to my side."

He gave me a look then, an unhappy look, to be sure. But I raised my eyebrows at him, and the corners of his eyes crinkled. "Very well. As my Warprize requests."

Essa struggled to his feet. "Please refrain from slashing your way through my tent, Warlord." He walked toward what must be his sleeping area. "This way, Warprize. — Elizabeth Vaughan

I saw something moving round the foot of the bed, which at first I could not accurately distinguish. But I soon saw that it was a sooty-black animal that resembled a monstrous cat. It appeared to me about four or five feet long for it measured fully the length of the hearthrug as it passed over it; and it continued to-ing and fro-ing with the lithe, sinister restlessness of a beast in a cage. I could not cry out, although as you may suppose, I was terrified. Its pace was growing faster, and the room rapidly darker and darker, and at length so dark that I could no longer see anything of it but its eyes. I felt it spring lightly on the bed. The two broad eyes approached my face, and suddenly I felt a stinging pain as if two large needles darted, an inch or two apart, deep into my breast. I waked with a scream. — J. Sheridan Le Fanu

Jesus, she called her cat "Mr. Purrsie Purrs." Colt didn't know much about cats but he knew hers wasn't a stupid one and if the damn thing understood English and recognized this affront to his dignity he'd scratch her eyes out. — Kristen Ashley

Rouen shone in dark sunlight and a storm swept it away from my eyes and churned up the broad river with waves which pounced up like cats as our train drew out of the arches of the bridge. — Sylvia Townsend Warner

What was it about this man that one minute had me wanting to throw myself at him, climb him like a cat to rub up against and the next, wanting to scratch his eyes out while I was up there? — Stephanie Hudson

All children are beautiful: the thing they do with their eyes that seems so dazzling when they take you all in, or seem to take you all in; it's like being looked at by an alien, or a cat - who knows what they see? — Anne Enright

Have you met my boyfriend?
There. That was a doozy. His eyes narrowed, and his lips thinned into a tight line. Yep, Noah was a mood kill for both of us. — Jeaniene Frost

Greet everyone you meet with a warm smile. No matter how busy you are, don't rush encounters with coworkers, family, and friends. Speak softly. Listen attentively. Act as if every conversation you have is the most important thing on your mind today. Look your children and your partner in the eyes when they talk to you. Stroke the cat, caress the dog. Lavish love on every living being you meet. See how different you feel at the end of the day ... — Sarah Ban Breathnach

Grimalkin sighed loudly, causing me to look back and Razor to hiss at him. "Am I the only one here who has any insight at all?" he said, looking to each of our faces. We stared at him, and he shook his head. "Drawing a blank, are you? Think about what you just said, human. Repeat that last phrase, if you would."
I frowned. "Isn't that where you want to be?"
He closed his eyes. "The next phrase, human."
"With all the other gremlins." He stared at me expectantly, and I raised my hands. "What? What are you getting at, Grim?"
Grimalkin thumped his tail. "It is times like these I am ever more grateful that I am a cat," he sighed. "Why do you think I brought you that creature, human? To keep up my stalking skills? I assure you, they are quite adequate already. Please attempt to use the brain I know is hidden somewhere in that head. — Julie Kagawa

How are you this morning? You get up in time for your workout?"
"Yeah. Just finished that. It was just a run ... well, a run in full combat uniform including our packs, but it was only five miles so not so bad."
Her eyes opened wide. "Oh, sure. That's nothing. I do at least that every morning, you know, before tea. — Cat Johnson

Puck and Ironhorse each grabbed a rope and began drawing the platform up the side of the building. The dark, mirrored walls reflected a strange party back at us: a cat, two elf-boys, a girl in a slightly tattered gown, and a monstrous black man with glowing red eyes. I contemplated how strange my life had become, but was interrupted by a soft hiss overhead. — Julie Kagawa

I'll buy you a blow-up doll. I'm sure my mate won't mind when I explain how hard up you are."
She didn't bother to punch him this time, just glared with promise of future retaliation. "Very funny. You wouldn't be laughing if you knew how sexually frustrated I am right now." [ ... ] "The last time was when that SilverBlade sentinel was in town for a communications meeting."
All amusement left Dorian's face. "You serious? That was months ago." A very long time to go without intimate touch. "Merce, that could get dangerous."
"I know. Do you think I don't know?" She thrust her hands through her hair. "Damn it Dorian! It's getting to the point where I'm starting to wonder if some of the wolves would be good in bed. [ ... ]
"Cat and wolf isn't a ... um ... normal combination."
"And Psy and cat is?" She made a face at him. "Yeah, yeah I know. Cat and wolf is strange." [ ... ]
"How about one of the Rats?" Dorian's eyes gleamed. — Nalini Singh

For I will consider my Cat Jeoffry.
For he is the servant of the Living God, duly and daily serving him.
For at the first glance of the glory of God in the East he worships in his way.
For this is done by wreathing his body seven times round with his elegant quickness ...
For when his day's work is done his business more properly begins.
For he keeps the Lord's watch in the night against adversary.
For he counteracts the powers of darkness by his electrical skin & glaring eyes. — Christopher Smart

Of course there always will be darkness but I realize now something inhabits it. Historical or not. Sometimes it seems like a cat, the panther with its moon mad gait or a tiger with stripes of ash and eyes as wild as winter oceans. Sometimes it's the curve of a wrist or what's left of romance, still hiding in the drawer of some long lost nightstand or carefully drawn in the margins of an old discarded calendar. Sometimes it's even just a vapor trail speeding west, prophetic, over clouds aglow with dangerous light. Of course these are only images, my images, and in the end they're born out of something much more akin to a Voice, which though invisible to the eye and frequently unheard by even the ear still continues, day and night, year after year, to sweep through us all. — Mark Z. Danielewski

Imagination. As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw - and it didn't improve his mood - was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes. "Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly. The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behavior? Mr. Dursley wondered. Trying — J.K. Rowling

My eyes widened at the ball of orange fluff squeezing out from under the counter, blinking and stretching.
I looked again, not believing.
"It's a cat," I said, winning the Pulitzer prize for incredible intellect. — Kim Harrison

Cats, for the most part, seem indifferent to human activities that do not revolve around their needs and wants. They all but roll their eyes at the owners who expect their cats to do things for them. — Joyce Jillson

All sex is a form of longing even as it happens. Because it happens against the crush of time. Because the surface of the act is public, a cross-grain of fear and ruin. She wanted her body to remain a secret of the past, untouched by complexity and regret. She was superstitious about talking to doctors in detail. She thought they would take her body over, name all the damaged parts, speak all the awful words. She lay for a long time with her eyes closed, trying to drift into sleep. Then she rubbed the cat's fur and felt her childhood there. It was complete in a touch, everything intact, carried out of old lost houses and fields and summer days into the river of her hand. — Don DeLillo

Don't you get it Cat? You're the key. I knew it the day I laid eyes on you. — Amanda Bouchet

He catches my hand and runs his gaze over me, his smile fading when he meets my eyes. "I wish I had the guts to kiss you right now."
It knocks me out: The way he says it send my body into an absolute free fall. "Then why don't you?" I ask, surprised at my own boldness. — Cat Patrick

I'm sorry, really, to be taking it all from you. Don't be silly. His eyes, large, liquid, remote, were - were whatever is the opposite of silly. She felt no anger at him, and not envy; she did want him to have her house; only - for a wild moment - wanted desperately not to lose it either. She wanted to share it, share it all; she wanted ... He went on looking at her, fixedly and unashamedly as a cat; and there came a flaw in time, a doubling of this moment, a shadow scene behind this scene, in which he asked her to come now, come to stay, stay now, stay always, yield it all to him and yet have it all ... . As instantly as she perceived it, the flaw healed, and No, no, she said, blinking, turning back to the kitchen door, shaken, as though, unaware, she had found herself walking out on ice. — John Crowley

Christopher Argent kept stealing disbelieving looks at Farah, his blue eyes reflecting the ambient glow like an alley cat's. Dorian understood why the man would dare in his presence.
First, because Christopher Argent was an unfeeling, fearless killer-for-hire.
And second, because most of the incarcerated men at Newgate had considered Dougan's Fairy some mythical creature, a sight too rare and beautiful to be beheld by a common man. Maybe even a fancy born of an imagination keen enough to take possession of the prison. To meet her was to gaze upon a fantasy realized, to remember the desperate yearnings of a lonely prisoner bereft of kindness, mercy, or beauty. To be blinded by the embodiment of all three of those things. For a man like Argent, one born to incarceration, the sight might have him reassessing some long-held cynical philosophies. — Kerrigan Byrne

When the tea is brought at five o'clock
And all the neat curtains are drawn with care,
The little black cat with bright green eyes
Is suddenly purring there. — Harold Monro

Mew, the kitten retorted, locking gazes with him. It had the expression common to all kittens, that of a tyrant in the becoming. 'I was comfortable, and you dared to move,' those jade eyes said. 'For that you must die.' When it became apparent to the cat that its two or three pounds of mass were insufficient to break Locke's neck with one mighty snap, it put its paws on his shoulders and began sharing its drool-covered nose with his lips. He recoiled. — Scott Lynch

You can't tell a little kid that you swear to God over something and then not do it. You may effectively ruin my childhood." He looks off into nothing, a wistful expression on his face. "Gosh, think of the therapy bills. Not to mention how I'll probably never be able to have a normal relationship when I'm an adult. I'll live with you forever and become a cat lady."
I cock an eyebrow at him. "You hate cats." He rolls his eyes. "Well, yeah, now I do. But I won't have a choice. It'll be inevitable. And I'll probably have to throw birthday parties for my feline companions where I bake them cakes out of
Fancy Feast. All because you went back on your God swear. — T.J. Klune

Every creature reproduces after its kind. A dog gives birth to dogs, a cat gives birth to cats, a cow gives birth to cows, a monkey reproduces monkeys and a human reproduces humans. So when God gives birth, what do you think He'll reproduce? gods, of course! When God created Man, He created him in His image and after His likeness. That's why we look like Him; we have two hands the same way He has two hands. We have two legs, one head, one mouth, one nose, two ears and two eyes just like Him. — Chris Oyakhilome

The cats at the edge of the clearing were staring up at the sky, their eyes huge with fear. As he looked upward, Fireheart heard the beating of wings and saw a hawk circling above the trees, its harsh cry drifting on the air. At the same time he realized that one cat had not taken shelter; Snowkit was tumbling and playing in the middle of the open space.
"Snowkit!" Speckletail yowled desperately. — Erin Hunter

Fireheart dashed to the warrior's side. Cloudtail was standing stiff-legged, every hair in his pelt on end as if he were facing an enemy. His eyes were fixed on the limp heap of tabby fur huddled at his paws.
"Why, Fireheart?" Cloudtail wailed. "Why her?"
Fireheart knew, but rage and grief made it hard to speak. "Because Tigerstar wants the pack to get a taste of cat blood," he rasped.
The dead cat lying in front of them was Brindleface. — Erin Hunter

I'm not a dog person by nature. Cats are more my bag. I like their independence, that look in their eyes that says 'Hey Jack. I go where the food goes'. Cats have an attitude like that, someone once said that cats were once revered as gods and they don't like us to forget it. Dogs don't have that attitude(at least not for me). What dogs have is a loyalty that borders upon stupidity. You can kick a cat and that's it. It'll go somewhere else and find itself another lap to sit upon. You can kick a dog and it'll just keep on coming back for more. — Paul Christison

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. — Abigail Roux

In Paris one could have the eyes of a cat (as he did) and tell people it was a trick of fashion. — Cassandra Clare

On the wicker chair the cat lazily raised its head. Meeting my gaze, it got up, padded across the floor and jumped onto my lap. I got rid of the orange peel, which the cat hated. "You can lie here for a bit," I said, stroking it. "You can. But not all night, you know. I'm going to bed soon." It began to purr as it curled up on me. Its head sank slowly, resting on one paw, and its eyes, which first had closed with pleasure, were closed in sleep within seconds. "It's all right for some," I said. — Karl Ove Knausgard

How can you tell there's anything out there?" said the man politely. "The door's closed."
"But you know there's a whole Universe out there!" cried Zarniwoop. "You can't dodge your responsibilities by saying they don't exist!"
The ruler of the Universe thought for a long while while Zarniwoop quivered with anger.
"You're very sure of your facts," he said at last. "I couldn't trust the thinking of a man who takes the Universe - if there is one - for granted."
Zarniwoop still quivered, but was silent.
"I only decide about my Universe," continued the man quietly. "My Universe is my eyes and my ears. Anything else is hearsay."
"But don't you believe in anything?"
The man shrugged and picked up his cat.
"I don't understand what you mean," he said. — Douglas Adams

We're going to investigate," Fireheart meowed. "We can't decide how to get rid of these dogs until we know exactly what we have to face. We're not going to attack them, not yet-have you got that, Cloudtail?"
Cloudtail's blue eyes burned into his, and he did not reply.
"I won't take you, Cloudtail, unless you promise to do as you're told without question."
"Oh, all right." The tip of Cloudtail's tail flicked irritably. "I want every last dog turned into crowfood, but I'll do it you're way, Fireheart."
"Good." Fireheart's gaze swept over the rest of the patrol. "Any questions?"
"What if we come across Tigerstar?" asked Sandstorm.
"A cat from another Clan on our territory?" Fireheart bared his teeth. "Yes, you can attack him.
Cloudtil let out a growl of satisfaction. — Erin Hunter

He dragged me back - just in time. A tree had crashed down on to the side walk, just missing us. Poirot stared at it, pale and upset.
"It was a near thing that! But clumsy, all the same - for I had no suspicion - at least hardly any suspicion. Yes, but for my quick eyes, the eyes of a cat, Hercule Poirot might now be crushed out of existence - a terrible calamity for the world. And you, too, mon ami - though that would not be such a national catastrophe."
"Thank you," I said coldly. — Agatha Christie

We are becoming like cats, slyly parasitic, enjoying an indifferent domesticity. Nice and snug in the social, our historic passions have withdrawn into the glow of an artificial coziness, and our half-closed eyes now seek little other than the peaceful parade of television pictures. — Jean Baudrillard

He got closer and I would have stepped back, but his hand came to thee side of my neck, his long fingers sliding up and into my hair behind my ear. His fingers were covered in a leather glove, but it still felt good, good enough to root me to the spot.
He dipped his face closer to mine and whispered, "What're you worried about, baby?"
I took in a breath, let it out and for some reason whispered back honestly, "It's just scary."
"I won't let you get hurt."
"But-"
"Nina, I promise. I won't let you get hurt."
I looked into his eyes and saw they were serious. He wasn't teasing, he wasn't impatient, he wasn't annoyed and he didn't think I was a scaredy-cat. He was just ... serious.
"Okay," I whispered. — Kristen Ashley

The cat came first, in order to be absolute first. It arrived when all the cribs and closets and cellar bins and attic hang-spaces still needed October wings, autumn breathings, and fiery eyes. — Ray Bradbury

All cats can see futures, and see echoes of the past. We can watch the passage of creatures from the infinity of now, from all the worlds like ours, only fractionally different. And we follow them with our eyes, ghost things, and the humans see nothing. — Neil Gaiman

Imagine a person, tall, lean and feline, high-shouldered, with a brow like Shakespeare and a face like Satan, a close-shaven skull, and long, magnetic eyes of the true cat-green. Invest him with all the cruel cunning of an entire Eastern race, accumulated in one giant intellect, with all the resources of science past and present, with all the resources, if you will, of a wealthy government
which, however, already has denied all knowledge of his existence. Imagine that awful being, and you have a mental picture of Dr. Fu-Manchu, the yellow peril incarnate in one man. — Sax Rohmer

We didn't domesticate cats. They domesticated themselves. But not totally, you know? You take a good look at any house cat, and you can tell there's eventually going to be a day when it goes back wild, you know? When it reverts to its true nature. You fall over and die in a house with your dog, and your dog will lie down beside your dead body, maybe right on top of it, and starve to death. But a house cat will feast on your eyes as soon as its stomach starts growling. — Sherman Alexie

His eyes, green with yellow sparks, and with elongated pupils like a cat's, made his grandmother gasp and say: 'Jesus! He has the devil's eyes! — Olga Nunez Miret

She smiled. Her skin looked whiter than he recalled, and dark spidery veins were beginning to show beneath its surface. Her hair was still the color of spun silver and her eyes were still green as a cat's. She was still beautiful. Looking at her, he was in London again. He saw the gaslight and smelled the smoke and dirt and horses, the metallic tang of fog, the flowers in Kew Gardens. He saw a boy with black hair and blue eyes like Alec's, heard violin music like the sound of silver water. He saw a girl with long brown hair and a serious face. In a world where everything went away from him eventually, she was one of the few remaining constants.
And then there was Camille. — Cassandra Clare

Your diet must be about fifty-fifty, carrots and locoweed," Annie said softly.
He froze.
"I can't figure out what in the name of God's labia majora you think you're doing ... but I'm impressed by how well you're doing it in the dark. You must have eyes like a cat. — Spider Robinson

I knew even before I had desire that it would be gnarled and knotted, black and hard, a tree that would never bear fruit, a fish that would never jump, a cat that would never meow. All my life, bitterness and regret, bitterness, and regret. "And yet," he said, briefly closing his eyes, "I was able to imagine the softness and sweetness of love, for a time." He rested his head upon his right hand, in a gesture worthy of a classical actor, and everyone in the Teatro Barbarossa heard his breathing. — Mark Helprin

No one wants to hear you speak, Bradie Boy," Kitten said in that scratchy voice of hers.
"Like that's ever stopped me. I can't believe we've got a bird and a cat in the car." Bradley chuckled. "I guess that makes me animal control. Nice."
"I'm a Teran," Kitten said tightly, "not a cat. And if I hear you call me a cat one more time, I'll scratch your eyes out. Understand?"
"Oh, I understand. I just don't think you'll like what I'm understanding, which is that you can't wait to get your hands on me. — Gena Showalter

Then his eyes moved to me and about a nanosecond later he moved to me, all masculine grace, a big cat on the prowl, fascinating. — Kristen Ashley

Closing my eyes, I lowered the wall around my Mori.
'Are you okay? Did I hurt you?'
'Solmi hurt', it replied, still a little upset.
I almost rolled my eyes. One-track mind. 'Solmi is okay', I assured it. 'Did the glow burn you?'
'No burn'. The demon moved forward a little. 'Again?' It asked eagerly.
'Not yet. Soon.'
I opened my eyes and stared at the pretty little lake as I tried to make sense of it all. For the first time, I left the wall down, and my Mori and I sat quietly together, not joined, but as companions. I sighed in contentment. 'This is nice, demon. I could get used to this.'
It curled up like a happy cat. 'Me too. — Karen Lynch

Winston Gallagher!" I said, recognizing the first ghost I'de met. Then my eyes narrowed & I covered my hand in front of my crotch as I saw Winstons gaze fasten there next. "Don't even think about poltergeisting my panties again". "This is the sod? Come here you scurvy little
" "Bones don't!" I interrupted. He stopped, giving a last glare to him while mouthing YOU. ME. EXORCIST. before returning to my side. — Jeaniene Frost

The bell on the cat's collar roused her. He'd brought her something: a baby pigeon stolen from its nest, mauled and draped on Jacey's pillowcase. The thing was pink, nearly translucent, with magenta cheeks and lavender around the eyes. It looked like a half-cooked eraser with dreams of someday becoming a prostitute.
Wild America — Wells Tower

Carlina with her cat-like eyes who didn't fit into any category he knew. (Commissario Garini's difficulty with his prime suspect.) — Beate Boeker

And that was how I ended up with the Gentle Lord in my bed, his head resting in my lap. He looked even younger when he slept - and since his eyes were closed, he looked human. I stroked his hair lightly; it was soft and silky as the fur of our old cat Penelope, and I wondered if he ever purred. — Rosamund Hodge

Over the ten years since she'd been born, the trees of Briary Swamp, West Virginia, had peered through May's window night after night. They had watched over her thoughtful brown eyes, the imaginative crook of her head, the strong character of her knobby knees. The trees had laughed at the jokes May told her cat. Their leaves had whispered over her wild inventions, her colorful stories, her drawings. — Jodi Lynn Anderson

Would he love the house as much if his cat burglar didn't come back for the painting? He pushed that thought away, telling himself he was in the market for a house long before he'd laid eyes on the dark-clad figure running along the rooftop. Long before the kiss. — B. J. Daniels

Right. I am here because I want to spend whatever time I can around Genevieve Windham, even if it's only a few weeks amid paint fumes and under her parents' watchful eyes. I am here to share with her whatever support and insight I might render regarding her art before she leaves for damned France. I am here" - he brushed his nose along the top of the cat's head - "because I could not resist the opportunity to see her, to kiss her, even once more." The cat appeared to consider this, then bopped Elijah's chin. "I am here because I am a fool." A — Grace Burrowes

Heavily and hypnotically,with her soul flattening itself back like the ears of a hissing cat,Kizzy leaned in and drank of Jack Husk's full,moist mouth,and his red,red lips were hungry against hers,drinking her in return.Their eyes closed.Fingers clutched at collars and hair,at the picnic blanket,at the grass.And as they sank down,pinning their shadows beneath them,the horizon tipped on its side,and slowly,thickly,hour by hour,the day spilled out and ebbed away.
It was Kizzy's first kiss, and maybe it was her last, and it was delicious. — Laini Taylor

And in his eyes he had the look of the cat who inspires a desire to caress but loves no one, who never feels he must respond to the impulses he arouses. — Anais Nin

If I ever loose my eyes, I won't have to cry no more. — Cat Stevens

he'd looked as tall and cool as ever, but a faint panicked light in his blue eyes had put her oddly in mind of a cat that had just had an inadvertent ride in a dryer. — Lois McMaster Bujold

I shall sit alone in a darkened room, sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything but a little grey old head, and in that little grey old head a peculiar vision of hideous blue and gold dangling things flashing in the light, and the smell of sweat, cat food and death. — Douglas Adams

It's too soon, too fast. We don't even know each other."
"Says who?" Ethan demanded. "Who decides how long it should take? Who makes the rules?"
Erica shrugged because she really didn't know it just seemed like common sense.
He put his index finger under her chin and swept his thumb just under her lower lip. "I do know you." He whispered. "I know you love chocolate and hate roses. I know you are kind and compassionate and generous. I know you feed the homeless and the stray cat that lives behind your apartment. I know you are a hopeless romantic. You are fiercely loyal." His eyes took on a mischievous glint. "I know you are ticklish; I know what makes you moan; I know what makes you squirm." He kissed her softly. "I know when I am with you I don't want to be anywhere else." He kissed her again and this time she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. Their tongues tangled in a duel that left her breathless. — Melissa Hale

Karl Heinzen, who retaliated with a memorable portrait of the angry little man. He found Marx 'intolerably dirty', a 'cross between a cat and an ape'; with 'dishevelled coal-black hair and dirty yellow complexion'. It was, he said, impossible to say whether his clothes and skin were naturally mud-coloured or just filthy. He had small, fierce, malicious eyes, 'spitting out spurts of wicked fire'; he had a habit of saying: 'I will annihilate you. — Paul Johnson

All this time Lock and I had managed to be civil to one another. No drama, all efficiency. But look him in the eyes? No, I couldn't do that. That would cut me wide open, and there would be blood. Lots of blood. I'd crumble into a heap on the floor then beg him to collect the pieces. — Cat Porter

The world of a cat is unlike any other. What is seen through their eyes cannot be understood by anyone besides another cat. Their world is filled with secrets and adventures that are always present and forever changing. To look at the world as a cat is to look through the veil of reality. — Alex G. Zarate

Having Bob gave me a chance to interact with people.... Cats are notoriously picky about who they like. Seeing me with my cat softened me in [others] eyes. It humanized me. Especially after I'd been so dehumanized. In some ways it was giving me back my identity. I had been a non-person; I was becoming a person again. — James Bowen

Imagine, Bishop, that you have a beloved cat, but that your cat is not with you. If you close your eyes and further imagine you are petting your cat, the same neurons in your brains are activated as if you were petting the actual cat. Our minds may know the difference between its models and reality itself, but it prefers its models. So much so that we apprehend reality through our models, rather than directly via the sense. When I'm speaking to you, I have a little bishop in my head, and though I speak out load, I'm speaking to my little bishop. When you answer, I can only perceive you through my model of you.
Mentars also make models, but they don't apprehend reality through them. They end up, not with little people in their minds, but with highly complex rule sets. They relate to their models in the same way we relate to weather models, as things to consult, but not to conflate with external reality. — David Marusek

I spoke with Steve Brown today, the man who owns Smith's house, and I had another talk with Jared. I have to tell you some things, and you're not going to like it. I don't think Dru has been honest with you." Cole paused for Pike to react, but Pike gave him no more reaction than a department store mannequin. The cat left the edge of the deck, twined once through Pike's legs, then sat, its eyes narrow and watchful. — Robert Crais

Cats always seem so very wise, when staring with their half-closed eyes. Can they be thinking, I'll be nice, and maybe she will feed me twice? — Bette Midler

A dog will make eye contact. A cat will, too, but a cat's eyes don't even look entirely warm-blooded to me, whereas a dog's eyes look human except less guarded. A dog will look at you as if to say, "What do you want me to do for you? I'll do anything for you." Whether a dog can in fact, do anything for you if you don't have sheep (I never have) is another matter. The dog is willing. — Roy Blount Jr.

Her eyes pleaded with him to understand, to try. Under that gaze, Eanrin had no option but to sit and stare at the scribbles in the dust, stare with all the intensity a cat can muster. His pupils dilated until the golden irises were like rings of eclipsed sunfire. Imraldera watched him, chewing her bottom lip and waiting.
At last the cat lashed his tail and raised his whiskered face to her. I'm sorry, my girl. It looks to me like the Greater Stick Bug pursues the Lesser Stick Bug over the back of a giant alligator. Can't make a thing of it otherwise. — Anne Elisabeth Stengl

Prey animals such as zebras and antelope have eyes at the sides of their heads, but a predator's eyes face forward. Always show the cat your face. Let her see where your eyes are, and she'll know you're a predator, too. She'll think twice before attacking. — Tess Gerritsen

I am not sure I can."
"Become sure," said the cat, his eyes flashing green in the firelight. "Once you leap on a boar's back, you can't sheath your claws. — Erin Bow

Meet my cat, Felipe. I should probably mention, he doesn't like strangers. * Understatement of the year. The gigantic, furry, striped monster with saber teeth and red glowing eyes was her cat? "Holy fuck, woman. He's the size of a bloody car. — Eve Langlais

I wish you could see the two cats drowsing side by side in a Victorian nursing chair, their paws, their ears, their tails complementarily adjusted, their blue eyes blinking open on a single thought of when I shall remember it's their supper time. They might have been composed by Bach for two flutes. — Sylvia Townsend Warner

Sometimes when I look at them from a distance, I try and squint my eyes and clear my mind. I peer at them the way a stranger would - without any emotions, just observations. In this large fortress I had created around my heart, the one that let me enter situations easily and leave even more easily, how did they find a cat flap that allowed them to crawl into my soul? — Twinkle Khanna

We're, ah, taking a break to evaluate things, and, um, reexamine our relationship, so I stuffed him in a closet! I burst out in shame. Timmie's eyes goggled.
Is he still there? — Jeaniene Frost

Scott parked in plain view by a gnarled podocarpus tree, nose to nose with the Jeep. He tucked the suspect sketch into his pocket, got out, and went to the edge of the slope. Cole and his buddies were watching him like three crows on a fence. A rumpled black cat with a crooked ear was watching him, too. The cat's eyes were hateful. Cole — Robert Crais

Its Scaled hide was dull brown That fitted in well with our surrounding, and its eyes a disturbing crimson. The low slung body featured powerful legs ending in scythelike claws anda long, flexible tail that moved hypnotically back and forth, like a cat's. Just behind its shoulders a pair of vestigial wings shifted and settled. — Marie Brennan

In the morning, when she wishes me to wake, she crouches on my chest, and pats my face with her paw. Or, if I am on my side, she crouches looking into my face. Soft, soft touches of her paw. I open my eyes, say I don't want to wake. I close my eyes. Cat gently pats my eyelids. Cat licks my nose. Cat starts purring, two inches from my face. Cat, then, as I lie pretending to be asleep, delicately bites my nose. I laugh and sit up. At which she bounds off my bed and streaks downstairs
to have the back door opened if it is winter, to be fed, if it is summer. — Doris Lessing

You adopted him," I said when Romeo sat on the coffee table in front of me.
"You love him," he said simply. Like that was all he needed to know.
"But you'll have to take care of him. Feed him. Give him water. Change the litter box."
"Thought maybe you'd want to help."
I looked up. Our eyes locked.
"What if I say no?" I asked. "What happens to Murphy then?"
He shrugged. "He's a cook cat. I'll keep him. He can watch football with me on Sundays."
I couldn't help but smile at the image that cast in my head.
"You'd really do that?" I whispered.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Yes." Then his stoic eyes turned playful and his smile came out. "You wanna watch football with me on Sundays too?"
- Rimmel & Romeo — Cambria Hebert

There are a few cat lovers among my close friends, and I have to admit that there have been moments when that look of excessive sweet affection oozing from around their eyes has left me feeling absolutely disgusted. Having devoted themselves to cats, body and soul, they seem at times utterly indifferent to shame. — Takashi Hiraide