Cat Like Quotes & Sayings

Her dog Custard is a Pomeranian. He looks like a golden dandelion fluff with cat feet. Mrs. — Laurell K. Hamilton

I like dogs, but I have more respect for cats. — Jake M. Johnson

Not to rag on myself, but when people say, 'What does it feel like to be an icon?' I'm like, 'My dog does not think I'm an icon, my cat does not think I am an icon, my cousin does not think I am an icon.' I have a really lovely group of friends, and I just don't think about it. — Kathleen Hanna

Ask!" the cat said.
"Ask, Kate!" Saiman prompted.
"Ask!" one of the volhvs called out.
I took a deep breath. The cat leaned forward in anticipation.
"Would you like some milk? — Ilona Andrews

I don't like dudes. Not even for 1 second. — Grumpy Cat

You don't have to love somebody to miss them. You get used to having them around, like a cat or a bird. — Ann Rinaldi

I picture my mother's face when she must go out in public with Owen, the cold arrogant look she wears, as if the whole world is filth before her. It is an expression I've learned to copy well, and like all roles, if you can believe it, you can be it. I press my hands to my face and push, smoothing the worry and fear away. I'm better than them. Better than Owen, than Canroth Piers. They can never really control me because they cannot bridle my thoughts. — Cat Hellisen

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

Near the Mexican border, rocky canyons cleave the mountains, laying them aside like broken wedges of gray cheese furred with a dark mold of pinon and juniper that sheds hard shadows on moon glazed stone, etched lithographs in gray and black, taupe and silver. Beneath feathery chamisa a rattlesnake flicks his tongue, following a scent. Along a precarious rock ledge a ring-tailed cat strolls, nose snuffling the cracks. At the base of the stone a peccary trots along familiar foot trails, toward the toes of a higher cliff where a seeping spring gathers in a rocky goblet. In the desert, sounds are dry and rattling: pebbles toed into cracks, hoofs tac-tacking on stone, the serpent rattle warning the wild pig to veer away, which she does with a grunt to the tribe behind her. From the rocky scarp the ring-tailed cat hears the whole population of the desert pass about its business in the canyon below. — Sheri S. Tepper

There can be many opinions on a thing, but there is only one truth."

Vashet smiled lazily. "And if the pursuit of the truth was my goal, that would concern me." She gave a long yawn, stretching like a happy cat. "Instead I will focus on the joy in my heart, [...} — Patrick Rothfuss

I like to call myself an "equal opportunist," as I love both dogs and cats, but over the last couple years, both Howard and I have become champions for cats. They are so independent and loving and playful and bring such happiness to our lives. — Beth Ostrosky Stern

Most people who die in fires don't burn to death; they die from smoke inhalation that kills the respiratory system. that's why the fire service is going on and on about smoke detectors. These little ten-dollar gadgets are one of the truly wonderful inventions of man. The wake you up from a deep slumber so that you and your family and your dog or cat or whatever can get out of the house in time to live and call the fire department. If this sounds like a public service announcement, it is. If you don't have one, buy one today. They make great Christmas gifts. Plus they're cheap. Give a gift of love to a loved one you love. End of announcement. — Larry Brown

But still, sometimes, in the heart of winter when the light outside seemed yellow- sleepy, like a cat curled up on a sofa ... — Stephen King

Sometimes I think that wisdoms slip from my mind like drool from the lips of an idiot ...
Where's all this stuff coming from? Is it any good? Any good in, you know, the wisdom sense? Who am I to spout this stuff anyway?
Well, here's the thing. You too can find yourself shedding wisdom like cat hair if you only allow yourself the liberty of introspection.
Think about what you alone know that no one else does. That one neat wonderful profound insight. It is fully yours. No one else on this planet of about six billion people understands it like you do.
Now, see if you can share it with someone. Bestow it, a gift of yourself.
Wisdom is like gossip. Except it's the good kind. — Vera Nazarian

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

Yuki: "What can I learn from a stupid cat like you? You didn't even know that Jason isn't really a bear. He's a character in a horror film."
Kyo: "Yeah? So what if I didn't? Like I'd waste my time watching some movie about a bear!"
Yuki: You truly are an idiot. — Natsuki Takaya

If Chelsea drop points, the cat's out in the open. And you know what cats are like - sometimes they don't come home. — Alex Ferguson

Teaching you to fight at all is an exercise in futility," Ty responded in a matter-of-fact tone. "Luckily for you, I enjoy things like banging my head against a wall."
"I enjoy banging your head against a wall too," Zane replied as tossed the balled-up tape at a nearby trash can. He let a small smile quirk his lips as he sat on the bench to unlace his shoes.
"Shut up," Ty grunted at him. But even though his back was still turned to him, Zane could hear a smile in his voice. "And cut it out with the damn cat jokes, huh? They're starting to catch on."
"Fine, fine. No reason to get catty about it," Zane told his partner with a barely concealed grin. — Abigail Roux

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

I'm not afraid to play ugly - look at 'Adaptation.' I looked like a turd that a cat had coughed up. — Nicolas Cage

I meet Daniel Day-Lewis. He's just sitting in a chair on the set. Now, I had been told that Daniel Day-Lewis was kind of an intense person. And he's really not. He's really THE MOST INTENSE PERSON THAT HAS EVER EXISTED ON THE PLANET OF EARTH. He's not doing anything, he's just sitting in a chair, and I am terrified of him as if a jungle cat has wandered onto the set, like- WHOA! What do we do! Are we supposed to move around a lot or stay perfectly still?! What are the rules of Daniel Day-Lewis?! — Paul F. Tompkins

The damned cats like pushing the reset button on my computer. — Adam Rifkin

Because I like to flirt with death. Let's do this, give me your best shot, human. Let's see who gives in first. This isn't my first time. — Shakuita Johnson

A brick could be used like sandpaper, to smooth out a cat's rough tongue. — Jarod Kintz

Mercy didn't get embarrassed easily, but her cheeks flamed now. Because if Riley knew she was in heat - like a freaking wild cat! - then so did the rest of her own pack. "So what, you followed me hoping I'd lower my standards and sleep with a wolf?" She intentionally made "wolf" sound about as appetizing as "reptile."
Riley's jaw tightened under a shadow of stubble a shade darker than the deep chestnut of his hair. "You want to claw at me, kitty-cat? Come on."
Her hands clenched. She really wasn't this much of a bitch. But goddamn Riley had a way of lighting her fuse. — Nalini Singh

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

Real terror is a crippling experience. You sweat so much that your skin goes all wrinkly like when you've been in the bath all afternoon. And then the scent of your sweat changes. It smells like cat pee, no doubt from the adrenalin. However hard you wash, it won't come off. It smothers you, as your muscles become frozen with acid and your mind paralysed by despair. — Tahir Shah

Life has played her like a cat weaving between her legs, pretending to be tame, friendly, before sinking its claws into soft, vulnerable flesh. — Wendy James

Darius didn't have any trouble finding the Street Cats building. It was a cozy-looking square brick building with big front windows crowded with cat stuff. I made a mental note to pick up a little something for Nala from their gift shop. My cat was grumpy enough without her thinking that I'd been cheating on her (translation: I would smell like a zillion other cats) and hadn't even brought her a present. — P.C. Cast

No, something far more mysterious has taken Felix. He has heard the unicorn." Like a performer, the cat gave a dramatic pause.
"Um," said Lionheart.
"You have no idea what I'm talking about, have you?"
"No, sorry."
"Mortals," growled the cat. — Anne Elisabeth Stengl

There's no doubt that after you eat a lot of garlic, you just kind of feel like you are floating, you feel ultra-confident, you feel capable of going out and whipping your weight in wild cats. — Les Blank

I don't party. I'm a total homebody. I like hanging out with my cat, and I've actually been known to stay home and knit. — Bethany Joy Lenz

Black Cat
A ghost, though invisible, still is like a place
your sight can knock on, echoing; but here
within this thick black pelt, your strongest gaze
will be absorbed and utterly disappear:
just as a raving madman, when nothing else
can ease him, charges into his dark night
howling, pounds on the padded wall, and feels
the rage being taken in and pacified.
She seems to hide all looks that have ever fallen
into her, so that, like an audience,
she can look them over, menacing and sullen,
and curl to sleep with them. But all at once
as if awakened, she turns her face to yours;
and with a shock, you see yourself, tiny,
inside the golden amber of her eyeballs
suspended, like a prehistoric fly. — Rainer Maria Rilke

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

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

And it is also the only reward for my work: to feel what I have written is like the back of a cat as it is being petted, with sparks and an arching in cadence. (page 402) — Julio Cortazar

My cats, the ones that I have, were feral when I found them so the relationship that I have with them 10 years in is very mutual, earned, and evolved over time. It was never an easy thing. I like that they have a certain distance and have their own sense of selves. — Marc Maron

Like all stories of creators who bring life from the dead, his story began with a struggling butcher, who chased a gray cat, caught it, took off its studded collar, and slit its throat. — Salvador Plascencia

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

I think there must be probably different types of suicides. I'm not one of the self-hating ones. The type of like "I'm shit and the world'd be better off without poor me" type that says that but also imagines what everybody'll say at their funeral. I've met types like that on wards. Poor-me-I-hate-me-punish-me-come-to-my-funeral. Then they show you a 20 X 25 glossy of their dead cat. It's all self-pity bullshit. It's bullshit. I didn't have any special grudges. I didn't fail an exam or get dumped by anybody. All these types. Hurt themselves. I didn't want to especially hurt myself. Or like punish. I don't hate myself. I just wanted out. I didn't want to play anymore is all. I wanted to just stop being conscious. I'm a whole different type. I wanted to stop feeling this way. If I could have just put myself in a really long coma I would have done that. Or given myself shock I would have done that. Instead. — David Foster Wallace

All these years Litvinoff had imagined he was so much like his friend. He'd prided himself on what he considered their similarities. But the truth was that he was no more like the man fighting a fever in bed ten feet away than he was like the cat that had just slunk off: they were different species. — Nicole Krauss

Nana acts like a stray cat, wild, free, and proud ... But inside her heart, she houses a wound. Dense as I am, i thought that. This trait of hers was a part of her charm as well..but she never realized how much pain it brought her ... -Nana Komatsu — Ai Yazawa

By my tenth glass of wine I started to wonder whether there was something wrong with my palate. Everyone else was marking the wine list with notes like "Pleasant finish. Robust spices." Meanwhile, I was doodling pictures of vampiric cougars. Then I noticed people staring at my doodles, and so I started writing notes next to the wine. Things like "Tastes of NyQuil, but in a good way," and "This one will get you all the way fucked up." "I can't feel my feet anymore." "Did I leave the garage door open? I wonder whether the cat is on fire. I should probably stop drinking now." Everyone else there had a sophisticated palate. I had one that needed therapy, and possibly an intervention. — Jenny Lawson

Cats on the bandstand, give them each a big hand, anyone who sweats like that must be all right. — Jerry Garcia

Oh dear, is that a skunk?" Leonora asked.
"No," Alessandro gasped in horror. "No the smelly cat!"
"I've told you, Alessandro darling, they aren't cats."
"They look like cats. Like the big fluffy cat she's been stepped on and flattened to a big fluffy pancake cat," Alessandro argued. — Lynsay Sands

A fiery little cat you are, Caecelia. Like a lioness in heat, oh how you bloom. — Sai Marie Johnson

ThunderClan is doomed!" "There will be a cat who burns like fire!" "Trust no one, not even your Clanmates. Too many hearts are fickle." "Beware the striped face and snapping teeth! — Erin Hunter

He'd been forced to reply on his charm. Which, as Cam would have put it, was like a wet cat trapped inside a plastic bag. — Lia Davis

Jazz swung his head to the side and shrugged, as if he were trying to affect shyness. He failed. Everything he did was cat-like, sharp, and lazy and confident. "It suits you."
Christian didn't care if it did or didn't at that point. This entire encounter was electric and surreal, like putting one's tongue to a battery. — Micaela Vee

That's like the dog calling the cat's arse hairy! — Marian Keyes

The functional disenchantment, the sweet habit of each other, had begun to put lines around her mouth, lines that looked like quotation marks
as if everything she said had already been said before ... [the cat] was accustomed to much nestling and appreciation and drips from the faucet, though sometimes she would vanish outside, and they would not see her for days, only to spy her later, in the yard, dirty and matted, chomping a vole or eating old snow. — Lorrie Moore

I like a thin book because it will steady a table, a leather volume because it will strop a razor and a heavy book because it can be thrown at a cat. — Mark Twain

The old woman smiled sweetly at Fermin. My friend stroked her face and her forehead. She appreciated the touch of another skin like a purring cat. I felt a lump in my throat.
'A stupid question, wasn't it?' Fermin went on. 'What
you'd like is to be out there, dancing a foxtrot. You look like a dancer; everyone must tell you that.'
I had never seen him treat anyone with such delicacy, not even Bernarda. His words were pure flattery, but the tone and expression on his face were sincere.
'What pretty things you say,' she murmured in a voice that was broken from not having had anyone to speak to or anything to say. — Carlos Ruiz Zafon

Like your sweet, affectionate house cat, Alice Dahl is easy to underestimate. It's not until the songbirds in the yard show up eviscerated on the front porch that you realize you should've kept that bell collar on her - because those poor birds never even saw her coming. — Elle Lothlorien

Yeah," I said. "And I'm gonna look just like him."
The black cat paused and looked me over.
"No you ain't baby. That cat is a prince, man. He is royalty in exile. You ain't never gonna look like that. — S.E. Hinton

Cats don't have shoulders, not like people do. But the cat shrugged, in one smooth movement that started at the tip of it's tail and ended in a raised movement of its whiskers. — Neil Gaiman

The skin of his torso was smooth and golden, rows of hard silken muscles contracting at her timid touch. His body radiated heat, luring her like a cat to a patch of sunlight. — Lisa Kleypas

I'm a fraidy cat. I play everything very safe in my life, so I think that's why I like characters that don't. — Jennifer Jason Leigh

It's entirely possible to get to know someone without actually seeing them in person. In fact, it's better like that because none of the superficial stuff gets in the way. You really get to know a person. And it's easier to express yourself when you're writing things down. At least it is for me. I like to order my thoughts, and delete them if they don't make any sense. You can't do that in real life. — Cat Clarke

I found all these stupid pictures of cats at the beach, and I was like, "They get it, man. They totally get it." — Bethany Cosentino

My cat is always looking at me like i am forgetting something crucial and he depends on it — Megan Boyle

We mothers can testify that it is impossible to completely control a child. It's like trying to steer a cat. Toni sorenson — Toni Sorenson

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

I was wary of my sister's cooking, which invariably consisted of a tubular pasta and economy cheese, charred black on the surface, with either tinned tuna or lardy mince lurking beneath the molten crust ... So that evening, in a tiny flat in Tooting, I was pushed into the tiny kitchen where sixteen people sat crammed around a tiny trestle table designed for pasting wallpaper, one of my sister's notorious pasta bakes smouldering in its centre like a meteorite, smelling of toasted cat food. — David Nicholls

Lana Del Rey seems to be bothering everybody because she allegedly 'remade' herself from a folk singing, girl-next-door type into an electro-urban kitty cat on the prowl (of course I like her), and they feel she is inauthentic. — Liz Phair

There is cruelty in divorce. There is cruelty in forced or unfortunate marriage. We will continue to cry at weddings because we know how bittersweet, how fragile is the truth. We will always need legal divorce just as an emergency escape hatch is crucial in every submarine. No sense, however, in denying that after every divorce someone will be running like a cat, tin cans tied to its tail: spooked and slowed down. — Anne Roiphe

You like the party?
Is it in honour of anything?
My cat's birthday.
Where's your cat?
I don't know, he ran away. — Cassandra Clare

I would like to choose my own warrior name. If it is all right, I wish to be known as Crowfeather." Crowpaw spoke so quietly, his voice was almost lost in the pounding water. "I wish to keep alive the memory of . . . of the cat who did not return from the first journey. — Erin Hunter

Those who say there's nothing like a nice cup of tea for calming the nerves never had *real* tea. It's like a syringe of adrenaline straight to the heart! — Cheshire Cat

But all this was beside the point. What scared Amy was the mere fact of what looked inescapably like recreational malevolence. The poem had been written by an adult, not some teen with an unfinished brain. Whoever wrote the line bootlicker, sycophant, toady intended damage, understood how Carla would feel, how anybody would feel, being called such names. The line was playful, offhand, the poem itself a smug, imperious cat stretch. The writer was having fun. Amy had been comfortable in the same room with someone whose idea of fun this was. — Jincy Willett

Purchase items that can be made into several meals, like a whole roasted chicken, or bag of sweet potatoes, and shop the periphery of the grocery store, avoiding the middle aisles full of processed and higher-priced foods. — Cat Cora

And let me touch those curving claws of yellow ivory; and grasp the tail that like a monstrous asp coils round your heavy velvet paws. — Oscar Wilde

Cats are very independent animals. They're very sexy, if you want. Dogs are different. They're familiar. They're obedient. You call a cat, you go, 'Cat, come here.' He doesn't come to you unless you have something in your hand that he thinks might be food. They're very free animals, and I like that. — Antonio Banderas

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

I can say with sincerity that I like cats ... A cat is an animal which has more human feelings than almost any other. — Emily Bronte

Trying to corral the suburban stampede with a bunch of school buses was like herding cats. Actually, it was worse than herding cats. It was herding white people, earth's only species with a greater sense of entitlement than a cat. — Tanner Colby

What a shock that a guy who makes $2 million a week behaves exactly like I would with $2 million a week. As far as I'm concerned, if you make $2 million a week and you don't have a hooker in your hotel room, you're creepy and I don't trust you. And I don't do drugs at all, so for me it would just be more prostitutes. That's how they would find me. I would be dead on the floor, flattened by a pile of prostitutes. I'd look like a cat in a hoarders' house. — Jim Norton

Like the librarians of Babel in Borges's story, who are looking for the book that will provide them with the key to all the others, we oscillate between the illusion of perfection and the vertigo of the unattainable. In the name of completeness, we would like to believe that a unique order exists that would enable us to accede in knowledge all in one go; in the name of the unattainable, we would like to think that order and disorder are in fact the same word, denoting pure chance.
It's possible also that both are decoys, illusions intended to disguise the erosion of both books and systems. It is no bad thing in any case that between the two our bookshelves should serve from time to time as joggers of the memory, as cat-rests and as lumber-rooms. — Georges Perec

Golfers who play a lot of courses often encounter short ledges or retaining walls, and I always had fun hopping down from them. I could jump off something six feet high and land like a cat, no problem. Well, today I can't jump off anything higher than two feet without it just killing me. — Tom Watson

Thomas looked like he was about to talk some smack at the malk, but only for a second. Then he frowned and said, "It's odd. You sound like ... like a grade-school teacher."
"Perhaps it is because I am speaking to a child," Cat Sith said. "The comparison is apt."
Thomas blinked several times and then he looked at me. "Did the evil kitty just call me a child? — Jim Butcher

If you aren't a pissed-off cat, you shouldn't make noises like one.~Freeing Carter — Nyrae Dawn

Well than try giving it some thought, why don't you? Apply that finely tutored mind of yours to all those bullshit hero-with-a-high-destiny legends you people are so fucking fond of telling one another. You really think, in a mudball slaughterhouse of a world like this, where war and privation harden whole populations to inhuman brutality and ignorance, where the ruling classes dedicate their sons to learning the science of killing men the way they consign their daughters to breeding till they crack
you really think the gods of a world like that have got no better thing to do with their time than take some random piece of lowborn trash and spend long years carving him into shape for a cat's-paw? — Richard K. Morgan

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

That's good. Because you're going to be my assistant." He grins like a Cheshire cat.
I raise my eyebrows in surprise. "I am?"
"Yep, I'm going to put my hands all over that body of yours in the front of the room and you're going to kick my ass. — Vi Keeland

I've always loved independent music stores because the staff is usually there because of a genuine love and appreciation for music. They're more in-tune with the customers and I'm willing to pay the extra dollar or two for the service they provide. Some of my greatest music discoveries have come from picking up an album at an indy store and the cat behind the register saying "You like this man? Have you heard of so-and-so?" I prefer to shop where people understand me and the music- the music i like. — Brother Ali

A few said they'd be horses. Most said they'd be some sort of cat. My friend said she'd like to come back as a porcupine. I don't like crowds, she said. — Brian Andreas

And there's nothing wrong with spinsters, anyway. They have nice cats and little bowls full of candy. Mrs. Bailey and Mrs. Newitz are the kindest ladies you'll ever meet, and they have nips of whiskey in their tea like cowboys. — Catherynne M Valente

Do you have a cat and is she sitting on your lap? Does her forehead smell like cedar trees and fresh sweet air? — Ruth Ozeki

My house feels like a proper home. It's very relaxed with a hippyish vibe. — Cat Deeley

Robbie Keane was like the cat that got the cheese — Stan Collymore

She is holding both hands over her stomach and smiling. It is a primal smile, a primordial smile, a smile of animal contentment - a smile like the smile of a dog with a ball, or a purring cat. It is a smile utterly impossible not to smile back at, and McFadden does. — Scott Gardiner

Stu stops munching, looks up at me from under his shaggy hair.
"So, can you read?" He slides a section toward me.
I cock my head toward the paper. The letters are small, blurry drawings. The alphabet might as well be Chinese or Arabic. Strange that I can't read or speak, though I still have language inside my head. Words are a consolation, but not a tool.
"Guess not. You want me to read stuff out loud to you?"
I would, but not right now. If I wanted to show interest in the newspaper I could cross the table and rub against his shoulder. Instead I gaze at him over the bowl of milk.
"It's so weird," he says in a hesitant voice. "You don't look like a cat. When you stare at me, you look like Eliza."
That's the nicest thing he could have said. With a happy lightness to my step I move between the bowls, over his napkin ring and spoon, until I stand on the edge of the table and nip at his prickly chin. This is my way of saying: Hi, there. I like you. — Simone Martel

Dogs are very different from cats in that they can be images of human virtue. They are like us. — Iris Murdoch

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

I've been so focused on what's horrible and unfair and terrifying about my condition that I hadn't acknowledged what is positive about my condition, as if the positive had been sitting quietly by itself on the far edge of the left side of my condition, there but completely ignored. I can't copy a whole cat. But I can recognize it, name it, know what one sounds and feels like, and I can copy most of it, enough for anyone who looks at it to know what I've drawn. I am lucky. — Lisa Genova

her on the dorm board. We had only twenty girls in a batch of two hundred. Goodlooking ones were rare; girls don't get selected to IIM for their looks. They get in because they can solve mathematical problems faster than 99.99% of India's population and crack the CAT. Most IIM girls are above shallow things like makeup, fitting clothes, contact lenses, removal of facial hair, body odour and feminine charm. Girls like Ananya, if and when they arrive by freak chance, become instant pin-ups in out testosterone-charged, estrogen-starved campus. — Anonymous

This was not because he was cowardly and abject, quite the contrary; but for some time past he had been in an overstrained irritable condition, verging on hypochondria. He had become so completely absorbed in himself, and isolated from his fellows that he dreaded meeting, not only his landlady, but anyone at all. He was crushed by poverty, but the anxieties of his position had of late ceased to weigh upon him. He had given up attending to matters of practical importance; he had lost all desire to do so. Nothing that any landlady could do had a real terror for him. But to be stopped on the stairs, to be forced to listen to her trivial, irrelevant gossip, to pestering demands for payment, threats and complaints, and to rack his brains for excuses, to prevaricate, to lie - no, rather than that, he would creep down the stairs like a cat and slip out unseen. — Fyodor Dostoyevsky

You have learned enough to see that cats are much like you and me. — T. S. Eliot

I even pulled out the can of cat treats. Yes, I'd bought him treats. Give it another month and I'd be collecting his shed whiskers and claws like a proud momma preserving her baby's first haircut and lost teeth. — Kelley Armstrong

There are tales that rise like the early sun, breathe, and take on a life of their own. There are ones that flow quietly and effortlessly until time forsakes them, but there are others that fight until they find their way to the edge of reality, as if coming straight out of a dream. — Edwin Fontanez