A Quote by Hannah Simone

It's aspirational for me. I've lived as a cat lady. I'm happy to be a cat lady. I'll continue to be a cat lady. Just bring them all to my house, and I'll keep them all, no problem.
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.
What's not to love about a crazy cat lady? You have to be very giving to be a crazy cat lady.
I love cats. I have a lot of cat tales, ha ha, so to speak. A lot of my cats come to me. They show up at my house. I'm kind of a cat lady that way.
The Lady Amalthea beckoned, and the cat wriggled all over, like a dog, but he would not come near... She was offering her open palm to the crook-eared cat, but he stayed where he was, shivering with the desire to go to her"...[later, Molly asked the cat] "Why were you afraid to let her touch you? I saw you. You were afraid of her." "If she had touched me," he said very softly, "I would have been hers and not my own, not ever again. I wanted her to touch me but I could not let her. No cat will... The price is more than a cat can pay.
I'm obsessed with my cat. We have a really strong, really weird codependent, almost Bella/Edward relationship. I'm going to be a crazy cat lady one day, I'm sure.
I'm not scared of it... I feel that I am a cat lady, I'm a little bit crazy because I love them so much and I dedicate my life to them.
I'm not a crazy old cat lady!
I'm like a crazy cat lady.
I love the cat-lady jokes.
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!"
Snap. Lady with dog. Lady on sofa half-naked. Snap. Naked lady. Lady next to dresser. Lady at window. Snap. Lady on balcony sunlight. (On New Orleans photographer E. J. Bellocq)
If I'm a crazy cat lady, so be it. I'm very proud.
If you were in a burning house and there was a cat and a Rembrandt, what would you save? The cat...you would save the cat, because the cat is alive. The art is dead. It's just paint on a canvas, ink on a page. To live for art is to deny life. It's just to destroy life.
I kind of imagine myself at eighty, a cat lady.
Words are a strange thing. You once saw an animal and decided it's a 'cat.' But cat is a sound. This cat has nothing to do with the animal. But I have decided it's a cat. So a cat it is.
It was a Friday night, she was at a club, and a good-looking man was currently giving her the I-want-to-take-you-home-and-I-hope-I-last-longer-than-five-minutes look… and she was thinking about pie, a young adult book, and feeding her cat. She was so turning into the cat lady at twenty-seven. Sweet.
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