Cats seem to go on the principle that it never does any harm to ask for what you want.
Cats are kindly masters, just so long as you remember your place.
Cats are connoisseurs of comfort.
Cats are a mysterious kind of folk.
Cats choose us; we don't own them.
A cat has absolute emotional honesty: human beings, for one reason or another, may hide their feelings, but a cat does not.
I wish I could write as mysterious as a cat.
There are two means of refuge from the misery of life — music and cats.
Cats are intended to teach us that not everything in nature has a function.
Time spent with cats is never wasted.
There is no snooze button on a cat who wants breakfast.
The smallest feline is a masterpiece.
As every cat owner knows, nobody owns a cat.
I have studied many philosophers and many cats. The wisdom of cats is infinitely superior.
Dogs come when they're called; cats take a message and get back to you later.
I believe cats to be spirits come to earth. A cat, I am sure, could walk on a cloud without coming through.
If animals could speak, the dog would be a blundering outspoken fellow; but the cat would have the rare grace of never saying a word too much.
I have lived with several Zen masters—all of them cats.
In ancient times cats were worshipped as gods; they have not forgotten this.