Quotes & Sayings About Lost Cat

Would you think it strange if I said I was having a good time? We're lost and confused and carrying around a cat. By all accounts, I should be feeling completely at a loss. Irritated. — Shelley Shepard Gray

No matter if you're a man, woman, cat, hamster, you will get lost in Matt Bomer's eyes. I don't know what they are made of outside of dreams and rainbows and amazingness but it truly doesn't matter. And when he sings. It's like God gave with both hands and then grew a third hand and graced him with more. — Channing Tatum

I never lost the certainty that he was the perfect boy. The perfect boy for me anyway. I just tried not to think about it, because it made me ache inside. — Cat Clarke

Blake studied the satisfied expression on Eliza's face. Like a cat just finished the last bowl of cream. His hand rose involuntarily - how he'd like to strike her! Elisa barely flinched. But Blake wasn't going to assault the woman. Instead he dropped his hand slightly and carefully traced his finger down her cheek until it rested above a strategically placed, heart-shaped beauty spot. He peeled off the tiny piece of black leather and held it between his index finger and thumb, studying it with apparent fascination.
"We have one thing in common, Aunt 'Lizzie'. We have both lost our hearts. But our likeness stops there. Unlike you, I wish to find mine." After flicking her beauty spot onto the floor, he stepped on it and strode out of her parlour. — Tanya Kaley

If you say that the China Cat might have lost its ear-tips in battle you are the kind of person who always makes difficulties, and you may be quite sure that the kind of splendid magics that happened to Tavy will never happen to you. — E. Nesbit

The discussion about how she was in Arizona stalking her birth mother, whose name she'd gotten on the duplicate birth certificate she'd ordered because she'd lost her original, should really happen in person, but that was impossible right now.
Oh, what a tangled web ... — Cat Johnson

And then there were cats, thought Dog. He'd surprised the huge ginger cat from next door and had attempted to reduce it to cowering jelly by means of the usual glowing stare and deep-throated growl, which had always worked on the damned in the past. This time they had earned him a whack on the nose that had made his eyes water. Cats, Dog considered, were clearly a lot tougher than lost souls. He was looking forward to a further cat experiment, which he planned would consist of jumping around and yapping excitedly at it. It was a long shot, but it just might work. — Terry Pratchett

As we all know, the spine ridges of adult cats are highly poisonous. If you are coming to see a kitten that you have adopted, it is important that you check for the location and severity of the spine ridge before attempting any petting. Also, keep your hands away from their mouths. A few of them have developed their venom sacks. We lost two cat adopters already this month, so...let's just be careful people. — Joseph Fink

The tea ritual: such a precise repetition of the same gestures and the same tastes; accession to simple, authentic and refined sensations, a license given to all, at little cost, to become aristocrats of taste, because tea is the beverage of the wealthy and the poor; the tea ritual, therefore, has the extraordinary virtue of introducing into the absurdity of our lives an aperture of serene harmony. Yes, the world may aspire to vacuousness, lost souls mourn beauty, insignificance surrounds us. Then let us drink a cup of tea. Silence descends, one hears the wind outside, autumn leaves rustle and take flight, the cat sleeps in a warm pool of light. And, with each swallow, time is sublimed. — Muriel Barbery

We lost track of which was which, but we were fairly sure that some of the creatures had been borne away still in the darkness of paganism, and that worried us a good deal. So finally I asked my father in the most offhand way imaginable what exactly would happen to a cat if one were to, say, baptize it. He replied that the Sacraments must always be treated and regarded with the greatest respect. That wasn't really an answer to my question. We did respect the Sacraments, but we thought the whole world of those cats. I got his meaning though, and I did no more baptizing until I was ordained ... — Marilynne Robinson

I forgot to mention that sometimes this typist is nauseated by the thought of food. This dates from her childhood when she discovered that she had eaten a fried cat. The thought revolted her for ever more. She lost her appetite and felt the great hunger thereafter. She was convinced that she had committed a crime; that she had eaten a fried angel, its wings snapping between her teeth. She believed in angels, and because she believed in them, they existed. — Clarice Lispector

Because whatever has happened to humanity, whatever is currently happening to humanity, it is happening to all of us. No matter how hidden the cruelty, no matter how far off the screams of pain and terror, we live in one world. We are one people. My illness proved that. As well as my understanding that Generose's lost daughter belongs to all of us. It is up to all of us to find her; it is up to us to do our best to make her whole again. There is only one daughter, one father, one mother, one son, one aunt or uncle, one dog, one cat, donkey, monkey, or goat in the universe, after all: the one right in front of you. — Alice Walker

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

I'm Magnus." He smiled, showing blinding white teeth.
"Magnus Bane."
"Are we long-lost friends, by any chance?" Simon said.
"Just wondering."
"No, we never got along all that well," said Magnus.
"Long-lost acquaintances? Compadres? My cat liked you. — Cassandra Clare

What place is this," Drizzt asked the cat quietly, "that I call home? These are my people, by skin and by heritage, but I am no kin to them. They are lost and ever will be. "How many others are like me, I wonder?" Drizzt whispered, taking one final look. "Doomed souls, as was Zaknafein, poor Zak. I do this for him, Guenhwyvar; I leave as he could not, His life has been my lesion, a dark scroll etched by the heavy price exacted by Matron Malice's evil promises. "Goodbye, Zack!" he cried, his voice rising in final defiance. "My father. Take heart, as do I, that when we meet again, in a life after this, it will surely not be in the hellfire our kin are doomed to endure. — R.A. Salvatore

He'd surprised the huge ginger cat from next door and had attempted to reduce it to cowering jelly by means of the usual glowing stare and deep-throated growl, which had always worked on the damned in the past. This time they earned him a whack on the nose that had made his eyes water. Cats, Dog considered, were clearly a lot tougher than lost souls. — Terry Pratchett

They were easy to distinguish from one another, these two groups. The voters wore frowns and invariably seemed lost. The lobbyists were the ones with the Cheshire Cat grins who navigated the halls more confidently than even the newly elected. — Hugh Howey

When you have cat stealers over for tea, you clean the house, buy bagels and cream cheese, and try to figure out how to trap your guests in a lie. — Caroline Paul

But try as Phoebe might to blend with her peers, it felt like bluffing, mouthing the words to a song she'd never been taught, always a beat late. At best, she fooled them. But the chance to distinguish herself, impress them in the smallest way, was lost. At her vast public high school Phoebe had felt reduced to a pidgin version of herself, as during "conversations" in French class - Where is the cat? Have you seen the cat? Look! Pierre gives the cat a bath - such was her level of fluency while discussing bongs or bands or how fucked-up someone was at a party. — Jennifer Egan

This day is full of extraordinary things that you are missing. Wonderful sights, like the sun on your counterpane, the hairs on your cat's tail, the cracks in the paint on your radiator, the leaves piling up against the curve. Wonderful smells, wonderful sounds. Wonderful people. Wonderful opportunities. Today is wonderful. But perhaps you have lost your sense of wonder. — Danny Gregory

Remember, there's more than one way to skin a cat. It can be done so that the animal will never know he's lost his hide. — L.M. Montgomery

one day Manuel returned to the place, and
she was gone -
no argument, no note, just
gone, all her clothes
all her stuff, and
Manuel sat by the window and looked out
and didn't make his job
the next day or the
next day or
the day after, he
didn't phone in, he
lost his job, got a
ticket for parking, smoked
four hundred and sixty cigarettes, got
picked up for common drunk, bailed
out, went
to court and pleaded
guilty.

when the rent was up he
moved from Beacon street, he
left the cat and went to live with
his brother and
they'd get drunk
every night
and talk about how
terrible
life was.

Manuel never again smoked
long slim cigars
because Shirley always said
how
handsome he looked
when he did. — Charles Bukowski

There's a time when people give their words to each other it has to mean something. I'm a street cat. I've belonged in gangs and when you had a partner, you went down with your partner whether you won the fight or lost it. You went down together. — Barry White

Ash and Puck shared a brief glance, and then Ash pushed himself off the wall to stand beside me. "Lead the way," he said, nodding into the darkness. "We'll be right behind you."

"For the record," Grimalkin stated as we ventured, single file, into the black, "I do not think this is a good idea. But, as no one listens to the cat anymore, I will have to wait until we are completely lost to say 'I told you so. — Julie Kagawa

The newcomer has lost his Twoleg collar in a battle for his honor. StarClan has spoken its approval - this cat has been released from the hold of his Twoleg owners, and is free to join ThunderClan as an apprentice. You look like a brand of fire in the sunlight. From this day forward, until he has earned his warrior name, this apprentice will be called Firepaw, in honor of his flame-colored coat. — Erin Hunter

It was only after my head started reeling and my body started weaving and I tumbled into bed that I'd hear that soothing voice singing ... The reverbations of that voice wandered sweetly, softly, working like a massage on the area of my heart that was the most tightly clenched, helping those knots to loosen. It was like the rush of waves, and like the laughter of people I'd met in all kinds of places, people I'd become friendly with and then separated from, and like the kind words all those people had said to me, and like the mewing of a cat I had lost, and like the mixture of noises that rang in the background in a place that was dear to me, a place far away, a place that no longer existed, and like the rushing of trees that whisked past my ears as I breathed in a scent of fresh greenery on a trip someplace ... the voice was like a combination of all this. — Banana Yoshimoto

Shouldn't she stay on the boat?" The cat's ear twitched, and Lila felt that whatever pleasant inclinations the cat was forming toward her, she'd just lost them.
"Don't be ridiculous," said Alucard. "The ship's no place for a cat." Lila was about to point out that the cat had been aboard the ship as long as she had when he added, "I believe in keeping my valuables with me."
Lila perked up. Were cats so precious here? Or rare? She hadn't ever seen another one, but in the little time she was ashore, she hadn't exactly been looking. "Oh yeah?"
"I don't like that look," Alucard said, twisting chest and cat away.
"What look?" asked Lila innocently.
"The look that says Esa might conveniently go missing if I tell you what she's worth. — Victoria Schwab

She lost her train of thought abruptly as Baird leaned down and gave her a long, slow lick at the exact spot where her right thigh met her body. Liv moaned as he did the same thing on the other side and then pressed his cheek against the top of her mound and rubbed like a cat. Marking me. He's marking me with his scent, like he said he would. — Evangeline Anderson

And you were sort of hypnotized by your boot or shoe or a finger-nail as it might be,and at the same time you were sort of picked up by the old scruff and shook like you might be a cat.you got shook and shook till there was nothing left.you lost your name and your body and your self and you just didn't care,and you waited until your boot or finger-nail got yellow,then yellower and yellower all the time.then the lights started cracking like atomics and the boot or finger-nail or,as it might be,a bit of dirt on your trouser-bottom turned into a big big big mesto,bigger than the whole world,and you were just going to get introduced to old Bog or God when it was all over.you came back to here and now whimpering sort of,with your rot all squaring up for a boohoohoo.now that's very nice but very cowardly.you were not put on this earth just to get in touch with God.that sort of thing could sap all the strength and the goodness out of a chelloveck. — Anthony Burgess

I am sorry I am the only cat left of what was once a noble Clan. I will try to preserve the way of the warrior until my last breath. But I fear that when I die it will die with me, and the memory of SkyClan will be lost forever. — Erin Hunter

Church was doing what he often did when dropped - lying on his back with all four legs in the air, pretending to be dead in order to induce guilt in his owners. — Cassandra Clare

We went too far when we put on the fur of lynxes,
Of weasels trapped in winter when they've lost their tan;
We went too far when we let the fox assist us
To warm the hide that houses the soul of Man.

The reek of the leopard and the stink of the inky cat
Striped handsomely with white, are in the concert hall;
We sleekly writhe from under them, and are above all that;
But, the concert over, back into our pelts we crawl. — Edna St. Vincent Millay

My old black cat, he passed away this morning. He never knew what a heartache was. Woke up late and he danced till noon. If questioned why, answered just because. He never spoke much, preferring silence. Eight lost lives was all he had. — Ian Anderson

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

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

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

For the first twenty years of my life, I rocked myself to sleep. It was a harmless enough hobby, but eventually, I had to give it up. Throughout the next twenty-two years I lay still and discovered that after a few minutes I could drop off with no problem. Follow seven beers with a couple of scotches and a thimble of good marijuana, and it's funny how sleep just sort of comes on its own. Often I never even made it to the bed. I'd squat down to pet the cat and wake up on the floor eight hours later, having lost a perfectly good excuse to change my clothes. I'm now told that this is not called "going to sleep" but rather "passing out," a phrase that carries a distinct hint of judgment. — David Sedaris

There is no reason to be alarmed by benign, occasional, short-term hunger. Given base-level good health, you will not perish. You won't collapse in a heap and need to be rescued by the cat. Your body is designed to go without food for longish periods, even if it has lost the skill through years of grazing, picking, and snacking. Research has found that modern humans tend to mistake a whole range of emotions for hunger.6 We eat when we're bored, when we're thirsty, when we're around food (when aren't we?), when we're with company, or simply when the clock happens to tell us it's time for food. Most of us eat, too, just because it feels good. This is known as hedonic hunger, — Michael Mosley

I sometimes think the Pussy-Willows grey
Are Angel Kittens who have lost their way,
And every Bulrush on the river bank
A Cat-Tail from some lovely Cat astray. — Oliver Herford

Clary?" he thought.
Her voice came through, tinged with alarm. "What is it? What's happened? Did my mom find out I'm gone?"
"Not yet," he thought back. "Is Azazel the cat from the Smurfs?"
There was a long pause. "That's Azrael, Simon. And no more using the magic rings for Smurfs question. — Cassandra Clare

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

There are not so many murders in this township, I think to myself, and not so few policemen, that a killing should be treated like an old woman who has lost her cat. — Jonny Steinberg

Nothing but the sight of blood upon his dark face would ease the pain in her heart. She lunged for him, swift as a cat, but with a light startled movement, he sidestepped, throwing up his arm to ward her off. She was standing on the edge of the freshly waxed top step, and as her arm with the whole weight of her body behind it, struck his out-thrust arm, she lost her balance. She made a wild clutch for the newel post and missed it. She went down the stairs backwards, feeling a sickening dart of pain in her ribs as she landed. And, too dazed to catch herself she rolled over and over to the bottom of the flight. — Margaret Mitchell

"I ... I still - "
"Can't believe it?" Rafe shrugged. "I'm guessing a regular person wouldn't have survived. But we're part cat so maybe falls aren't so bad. I think I lost one of my nine lives though." He twisted to look at the stab wound. "Maybe two."
I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him, and when I did, I knew he was real - the heat of him, the smell of him, the feel of him, the taste of him so incredibly real that it surpassed anything my memory could conjure up. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me back, and it was like every other amazing kiss he'd given me, multiplied ten-fold. I kissed him until I couldn't breathe, and then I kissed him a little more, until I had to pull back, gasping.
"I have got to die more often," he said. And he grinned, that incredible blaze of a grin that made me kiss him again. — Kelley Armstrong

The tea-hour is the hour of peace ... strife is lost in the hissing of the kettle - a tranquilizing sound, second only to the purring of a cat. — Agnes Repplier

His lovely wife tends her zinnias in the mild morning light and his find young man comes fondly mishandling that perpetually lost sheep of a cat, Soapy, once more back from perdition for the time being, to what would have been general rejoicing. — Marilynne Robinson

cursing, the delicate use of profanities, and some good basic slang to help you navigate the world of spoken German. So when a drunk harasses you in a Frankfurt bar, you'll know just how to tell him to "get lost" or "fuck off" (whichever you prefer); when a woman speaks to you of her Muschi, you'll know that she is either talking about her cat or a part of her own anatomy (you be the judge); and when the hitchhiker you picked up on the autobahn yells, Vorsicht! Bullen!, you'll know he is not warning you of cattle crossing the road but of the police. — Gertrude Besserwisser

Thought subsides when you pet your dog or you have a purring cat on your chest. Even just watching an animal can take you out of your mind. It is more deeply connected with the source of life than most humans, and that rootedness in Being transmits itself to you. Millions of people who otherwise would be completely lost in the conceptual reality of their mind are kept sane by living with an animal. — Eckhart Tolle

I'm the girl who is lost in space, the girl who is disappearing always, forever fading away and receding farther and farther into the background. Just like the Cheshire cat, someday I will suddenly leave, but the artificial warmth of my smile, that phony, clownish curve, the kind you see on miserably sad people and villains in Disney movies, will remain behind as an ironic remnant. I am the girl you see in the photograph from some party someplace or some picnic in the park, the one who is in fact soon to be gone. When you look at the picture again, I want to assure you, I will no longer be there. I will be erased from history, like a traitor in the Soviet Union. Because with every day that goes by, I feel myself becoming more and more invisible ... — Elizabeth Wurtzel

We do this thing. We open our hearts to the world around us. And the more we do that, the more we allow ourselves to love, the more we are bound to find ourselves one day - like Dave, and Morley, and Sam, and Stephanie - standing in the kitchen of our live, surrounded by the ones we love, and feeling empty, and alone, and sad, and lost for words, because one of our loved ones, who should be there, is missing. Mother or father, brother or sister, wife or husband, or a dog or cat. It doesn't really matter. After a while, each death feels like all the deaths, and you stand there like eveyone else has stood there before you, while the big wind of sadness blows around and through you.
"He was a great dog," said Dave.
"Yes," said Morley. "He was a great dog. — Stuart McLean

Magnus's eyes went back to Alec. They were gold-green, as unreadable as the eyes of the cat he held on his lap. "Not my favorite topic, Smedley."
"Simon", said Simon. "If I'm going to die for you all, the least you could do is remember my name. — Cassandra Clare

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. — Muriel Spark

No tame animal has lost less of its native dignity or maintained more of its ancient reserve. The domestic cat might rebel tomorrow. — William E. Conway Jr.

How some pre-teens lose their minds for boy bands, rock stars, and hot celebrities, I always lost my marbles for Beau. It all started when he climbed a tree to save my cat. I was eight. He was ten. He'd kissed me on the cheek. He'd wiped my tears. He'd held my hand. He'd hugged me close. He was my hero. He'd saved my cat. — Penny Reid