Pussy cat, pussy cat, I love you, yes I do. You and your pussy cat nose.
Without a twich of exertion, Redd sealed his lips with glue. "Who wants to kill him?" The Cat raised a paw. Siren and Alistare raised their hands. "Mmmmmm mmm mmm," protested Jack.
Oh cat, I'd say, or pray: be-ootiful cat! Delicious cat! Exquisite cat! Satiny cat! Cat like a soft owl, cat with paws like moths, jewelled cat, miraculous cat! Cat, cat, cat, cat.
I'm a writer, not an editor, and though the editing rarely cut into my writing time, it did take away from that walking-around-thinking-about-it-when-you're-not-thinking-about-it time that I think is important for writers. When you're half-thinking about what you're working on while driving, cooking . . . just letting things sift and settle, come to you.
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.
I do a lot of thinking about my work while I'm walking. More in the early morning when I'm trekking in the mountains. When I'm walking in the city, I think more about people around me - my brothers, my wife, some business situation, commitments.
there are many ways of eating, for some eating is living for some eating is dying, for some thinking about ways of eating gives to them the feeling that they have it in them to be alive and to be going on living, to some to think about eating makes them know that death is always waiting that dying is in them.
I stopped eating beef at 13 and stopped eating all meat a few years ago. I would feel guilty that what was on my plate was walking around yesterday. Either I could live with that or stop eating meat. I choose the latter, and I'm happier for it.
If you sell the Vatican and you take that money and you use it to feed every single human being on the planet, you will get cah-azy pussy. All the pussy. I don't mean literally. That might not be your cup of tea. I don't know what your version of 'all the pussy' is. But you'll get all the pussy.
All of a sudden, I'm thinking that if I keep eating the way I'm eating, I'm not going to live long and I'm going to die. Having those thoughts as a young person can be very haunting.
You have no control over your cat! You can't say to your cat, "Cat, heel! Stay! Wait! Lie down! Roll over!" 'Cause the cat's just gonna be sitting there going, "Interesting words ... have you finished?" While you're shouting all this to your cat, your dog's next to you, going ... [mimes obeying all commands] "What the hell are you doing? I'm talking to the cat!" "Oh, I'm sorry!"
But how can you walk away from something and still come back to it?" "Easy," said the cat. "Think of somebody walking around the world. You start out walking away from something and end up coming back to it." "Small world," said Coraline. "It's big enough for her," said the cat. "spiders' webs only have to be large enough to catch flies." Coraline shivered.
I feel like so often I'm just, like, running around and eating in the car, which is, like, not good, or eating as I'm walking down the street.
I do not know what the cat can have eaten. Usually I know exactly what the cat has eaten. Not only have I fed it to the cat, at the cat's insistence, but the cat has thrown it up on the rug, and someone has tracked it all over onto the other rug. I do not know why cats are such habitual vomiters. They do not seem to enjoy it, judging by the sounds they make while they are doing it. It's their nature. A dog is going to bark. A cat is going to vomit.
I'm a real pussy cat - with an iron tail.
I hung out with some crazy desert people. One guy was just walking around with only shorts on - he'd been walking with bare feet for the last two years. He was totally scarred and eating on all fours like a dog.