#cats

I grew up in a house full of women: my mother, grandmother, three sisters, and two female cats. And I still have the buzz of their conversations in my head. As an adult, I have more female friends than male ones: I just love the way that women talk. ↗

— James Patterson

#buzz #cats #conversations #female #friends

I grew up with such an affinity to cats. I adore the way that they think and operate. ↗

— Guy Pearce

#affinity #cats #grew #i #operate

Cats know, comin' out of four, they better be standin' on it, else they'll be standin' in it. ↗

— Richard Petty

#cats #comin #else #four #know

Clear clutter. Make space for you. ↗

— Magdalena VandenBerg

#humor #inspirational-attitude #minnie-moo #attitude

Dear cat, your ears are flipped inside out, so I know you’re not listening to a word I’m not saying.
 ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#cats #communication #ears #listen #listening

In Egypt: Under no conditions, under threat of death could anyone kill a cat. People were exceuted for even killing a cat accidentally. And when a cat died, the whole family, and probably their closest friends, went into mourning, the measure of their personal loss signalled by their shaving off their eyebrows. ↗

— Roger A. Caras

#death #egypt #mourning #death

In the absence of a cat, I’d consider cuddling with a synthetic fur coat. Especially if your dead grandma was wearing it.
 ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#cats #coat #cuddle #cuddling #death

A cat has absolute emotional honesty: human beings, for one reason or another, may hide their feelings, but a cat does not. ↗

— Ernest Hemingway

#emotion

The urge to change my mind and not go at all is enormous. I’m absolutely terrified to leave on that boat. But, if I don’t go, there’ll be one more broken person in this world who gave up a dream to sit in a chair, pick up the TV remote and shrink. ↗

— Lexis De Rothschild

#cats #chick-lit #humor #kindle #literary-collections

The white saucer like some full moon descends At last from the clouds of the table above; She sighs and dreams and thrills and glows, Transfigured with love. She nestles over the shining rim, Buries her chin in the creamy sea; Her tail hangs loose; each drowsy paw Is doubled under each bending knee. A long, dim ecstasy holds her life; Her world is an infinite shapeless white, Till her tongue has curled the last holy drop, Then she sinks back into the night, Draws and dips her body to heap Her sleepy nerves in the great arm-chair, Lies defeated and buried deep Three or four hours unconscious there. ↗

— Harold Monro

#milk #dreams