Mad Cat Quotes & Sayings

If she has her way ...

Willa Davis is wrangling puppies when Keane Winters stalks into her pet shop with frustration in his chocolate-brown eyes and a pink bedazzled cat carrier in his hand. He needs a kitty sitter, stat. But the last thing Willa needs is to rescue a guy who doesn't even remember her ...

He'll get nothing but coal in his stocking.

Saddled with his great-aunt's Feline from Hell, Keane is desperate to leave her in someone else's capable hands. But in spite of the fact that he's sure he's never seen the drop-dead-gorgeous pet shop owner before, she seems to be mad at him ...

Unless he tempers "naughty" with a special kind of nice ...

Willa can't deny that Keane's changed since high school: he's less arrogant, for one thing - but can she trust him not to break her heart again? It's time to throw a coin in the fountain, make a Christmas wish - and let the mistletoe do its work ... — Jill Shalvis

There is evidence that I have survived this before, that I will go on surviving.
There is love. There is love. There is love.
Maybe the Cheshire cat was right. Maybe we are all a little mad. And if we are all in this together, then none of us are truly alone. That means me. But it also means you.
Across these pages, I reach out to you, dear one whose heart feels so alone.
This too shall pass.
And we will all be okay. — Clementine Ford

With a cold barren weariness that quenched the dry glow of anger, he thought, What can you do about these people? The terrible thing is, there are such a lot of them. There are so many, they expect to meet each other wherever they go.
Not wicked, he thought: that's not the word, that's sentimentality. These are just runts. Souls with congenitally short necks and receding brows. They don't sin in the sight of heaven and feel despair: they only throw away lighted cigarettes on Exmoor, and go on holiday leaving the cat to starve, and drive on after accidents without stopping. A wicked man nowadays can set millions of them in motion, and when he's gone howling mad from looking at his own face, they'll be marching still with their mouths open and their hands hanging by their knees, on and on and on. ... — Mary Renault

You now have learned enough to see That Cats are much like you and me And other people whom we find Possessed of various types of mind. For some are sane and some are mad And some are good and some are bad And some are better, some are worse - But all may be described in verse. — Garrison Keillor

How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice. "You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here. — Lewis Carroll

Someone creeping into his yard in the dead of night? More likely there's a very shell-shocked cat wandering somewhere, covered in potato peelings. — J.K. Rowling

And how do you know that you're mad? "To begin with," said the Cat, "a dog's not mad. You grant that?" I suppose so, said Alice. "Well then," the Cat went on, "you see a dog growls when it's angry, and wags it's tail when it's pleased. Now I growl when I'm pleased, and wag my tail when I'm angry. Therefore I'm mad. — Lewis Carroll

Insanity," said Hatta, still mesmerized by his royal purple hair. "That always seemed the strangest word because it actually means out of sanity. Shouldn't someone who's in sanity be very sane? In means out. Curious."
"And they think we're the mad ones," laughed the smiling Cheshire Cat. — Daniel Coleman

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

Artemis remembered a few lines from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland: "But I don't want to go among mad people," said Alice. "Oh, you can't help that," said the cat. "We're all mad here. — Eoin Colfer

In fact, it makes me mad when someone kills snakes or dogs or cats or horses. I don't even like to eat meat - that is how much I am against killing ... — Charles Manson

To begin with," said the Cat, "a dog's not mad. You grant that?"
"I suppose so," said Alice
"Well, then," the Cat went on, "you see a dog growls when it's angry, and wags its tail when it's pleased. Now I growl when I'm pleased, and wag my tail when I'm angry. Therefore I'm mad."
"I call it purring, not growling," said Alice.
"Call it what you like," said the Cat. — Lewis Carroll

You'll like it here; everyone is quite mad. — Jasper Fforde

You look beautiful sitting there spitting at me like a she-cat. All I have to do is look at you, and I lust. I'm going to take you back to the hotel and take off that delectable dress and make love to you until you don't have the energy to be mad at me anymore. Ian Connelly, Marquis of Derne — Karen Robards

And what is sin?' said Cotgrave.
'I think I must reply to your question by another. What would your feelings be, seriously, if your cat or your dog began to talk to you, and to dispute with you in human accents? You would be overwhelmed with horror. I am sure of it. And if the roses in your garden sang a weird song, you would go mad. And suppose the stones in the road began to swell and grow before your eyes, and if the pebble that you noticed at night had shot out stony blossoms in the morning?
'Well, these examples may give you some notion of what sin really is. — Arthur Machen

In London there is a man who screams when the church bells ring. He lives all alone with his streaked cat in Gray's Inn, and people call him harmlessly mad. — H.P. Lovecraft

On Halloween, Wendell, Floyd, and Mona were walking home from school when a black cat crossed their path.
"Don't pet it, Floyd!" cried Wendell. "Don't you know that black cats are bad luck?"
"That's just an old wives' tale," Mona said. "Besides, what could happen?"
Wendell merely shook his head. "Anything can happen on Halloween."
In fact, something did happen as soon as they got home. First, Wendell discovered that his mad scientist costume had turned pink in the wash.
This is definitely a bad sign, he thought.
Then Floyd found out that he had to take his sister, Alice, trick-or-treating with him. "Pirates don't have little sisters," he complained.
Worst of all, Mona's mother insisted that she go out dressed as a fairy princess. "I look ridiculous," Mona protested.
"Nonsense," said her mother, and handed her a magic wand.
They all felt gloomy that evening as they set out trick-or-treating and hoped that no one they knew would see them. — Mark Teague

And how do you know that you're mad? — Lewis Carroll

Oh, you can't help that,' said the Cat: 'we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad.' 'How — Lewis Carroll

Are you scared?" she purrs. "Been too long? Out of practice?" Her head cocks to the side, a bad-girl grin on her face.
And then her words register.
Too scared to shag her? I can't even dignify that with a response. I can't even sputter. And then she gives me a purple-nurple, twisting my nipple.
"Oy!" I grab her wrist, the mad little cat. I should spank her arse for that.
Suddenly my towel is gone and my body is announcing just how much I've enjoyed her naughty act, complete with the ripping-off-of-the-towel finale. — Wendy Higgins

Keith much preferred cats. A cat wouldn't go mad at a man traversing a wall in the dead of night; it would shrug and lick its arse — Simon Dunn

A murmur passed through the Clan, and Bluefur wondered if he'd overheard the elders talking about inviting Goosefeather to give up his duties and join them beneath the fallen tree. The old medicine cat was standing with his fur on end and his eyes mad, glaring at nothing. It seemed like it might be a kindness to set him free from his responsibilities and let his denmate take over. — Erin Hunter

Mad cow disease is caused by a prion, a weirdly folded protein molecule that triggers weird folding in other molecules, like Kurt Vonnegut's infectious form of water, ice-nine, in his great early novel Cat's Cradle. — David Quammen

Why should a lobster be any more ridiculous than a dog? ... or a cat, or a gazelle, or a lion, or any other animal one chooses to take for a walk? I have a liking for lobsters. They are peaceful, serious creatures ... Goethe had an aversion to dogs, and he wasn't mad. They know the secrets of the sea, they don't bark. — Gerard De Nerval

You can't hold a cat and be mad at the same time. — Kevin Bergeron

He was
a hip cat
a hep cat
a cool cat

a bad
mad
rad cat

Oobie-do John the Sax Man Scat Man

the long
sleek
cat man!! — Jonathan London

What does Mad-Eye say happened?" asked Mr. Weasley, unscrewing the ink bottle, loading up his quill, and preparing to take notes. Mr. Diggory's head rolled its eyes. "Says he heard an intruder in his yard. Says he was creeping toward the house, but was ambushed by his dustbins." "What did the dustbins do?" asked Mr. Weasley, scribbling frantically. "Made one hell of a noise and fired rubbish everywhere, as far as I can tell," said Mr. Diggory. "Apparently one of them was still rocketing around when the please-men turned up - " Mr. Weasley groaned. "And what about the intruder?" "Arthur, you know Mad-Eye," said Mr. Diggory's head, rolling its eyes again. "Someone creeping into his yard in the dead of night? More likely there's a very shell-shocked cat wandering around somewhere, covered in potato peelings. But if the Improper Use of Magic lot get their hands on Mad-Eye, he's had it - think of his record - — J.K. Rowling

But I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked. "Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat, "we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad." "How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice. "You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here." 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland' by Lewis Carroll — Shweta Ganesh Kumar

Alice didn't think that proved it at all; however, she went on: 'And how do you know that you're mad?'
'To begin with,' said the Cat, 'a dog's not mad. You grant that?'
'I suppose so,' said Alice.
'Well then,' the Cat went on, 'you see, a dog growls when it's angry, and wags its tail when it's pleased. Now I growl when I'm pleased, and wag my tail when I'm angry. Therefore I'm mad.'
'I call it purring, not growling,' said Alice. — Lewis Carroll

Some men there are love not a gaping pig, some that are mad if they behold a cat, and others when the bagpipe sings I the nose cannot contain their urine. — William Shakespeare

They ask themselves: "What will he do?" "How will he react?" "Will he go mad?" "Will he bite?" "Will he be armed?" They're pumped up with fear. Adrenaline pumping, fingers tense on the trigger, brains racing. And I'm cool as a cat! The name 'Charles Bronson' causes panic! The name 'Mickey Peterson' causes stress! The police all love to arrest me, as I'm the most exciting madman they will ever arrest! It's a fact. So here I am years later, and I'm still the madman. There is no escaping my past. — Stephen Richards

Cheshire Cat: If I were looking for a white rabbit, I'd ask the Mad Hatter.
Alice: The Mad Hatter? Oh, no no no ...
Cheshire Cat: Or, you could ask the March Hare, in that direction.
Alice: Oh, thank you. I think I'll see him ...
Cheshire Cat: Of course, he's mad, too.
Alice: But I don't want to go among mad people.
Cheshire Cat: Oh, you can't help that. Most everyone's mad here.
[laughs maniacally; starts to disappear]
Cheshire Cat: You may have noticed that I'm not all there myself. — Lewis Carroll

The Necrotelicomnicon was written by a Klatchian necromancer known to the world as Achmed the Mad, although he preferred to be called Achmed the I Just Get These Headaches. It is said that the book was written in one day after Achmed drank too much of the strange thick Klatchian coffee which doesn't just sober you up, but takes you through sobriety and out the other side, so that you glimpse the real universe beyond the clouds of warm self-delusion that sapient life usually generates around itself to stop it turning into a nutcake. Little is known about his life prior to this event, because the page headed 'About The Author' spontaneously combusted shortly after his death. However, a section headed 'Other Books By the Same Author' indicates that his previous published work was Achmed the I Just Get These Headaches's Book of Humorous Cat Stories, which might explain a lot. — Terry Pratchett

My youngest boy went mad. He sits drooling on the porch, trying to play the cat like an accordion. He's been scratched some. — H.P. Lovecraft

We hold these stories and mad idea and events in our head and they run around and around telling us we are different, separate, broken.
Then one day the mad idea escapes the asylum. Most times it's unplanned. It just tumbles out on the lap of the man sitting next to us on the bus, or it slips sideways into a conversation on line at the Trader Joe's or it falls out at the kitchen table when your neighbor comes to pick up her cat.
And there is a terrifying moment when it first hits the light of day, where we think, "holy mother of God! What have I done? How could I have been to casual with my crazy ways?"
But the man on the bus just smiles and nods his head, and the casher takes a moment to look us in the eye and the neighbor sits for a cup of tea and together we move into some new agreements that we are all in fact crazy and it's so much nicer to be out of the closet with it all. — Maureen Muldoon

I've always been a reserved cat. When I play sports, there's people used to get mad at me because I didn't hang out and things like that. I've never been that kind of person. Nothing has changed in that regard. I've never been posse, and all that. I'm a quiet storm. — Bernie Mac