A Quote by Tennessee Williams

What is the victory of a cat on a hot tin roof? - I wish I knew... Just staying on it, I guess, as long as she can. — © Tennessee Williams
What is the victory of a cat on a hot tin roof? - I wish I knew... Just staying on it, I guess, as long as she can.
While you might see a cat on a hot tin roof, a dog on a hot tin roof would be yowling its head off.
Like a cat on a hot tin roof.
Nothing's more determined than a cat on a hot tin roof.
In 'Cat on a Hot Tin Roof,' I couldn't take my eyes off Judith Anderson as Big Mama.
I played Big Mama in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof when I was 20 years old at the University of Michigan.
I played Big Mama in 'Cat on a Hot Tin Roof' when I was 20 years old at the University of Michigan.
I was the first African-American woman to play Maggie in 'Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.' It was at the Virginia State Theatre, and we turned Richmond upside down.
The big one I missed out on was 'Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.' MGM wanted me for it, and Warner Bros. wouldn't give me permission to do it.
I grew up in a small town, in a small community, and I would not have had access to great plays when I was a kid were it not for the films of 'Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?' and 'Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.'
When I was a kid I used to go to the movies, double features in outdoor theaters, and my parents used to take us to see like, 'Cat On a Hot Tin Roof' or something like that, with Elizabeth Taylor.
I used to come down from New Rochelle and go to Radio City. They'd have a floor show and a movie. I'm showing my age, but I saw 'Cat on a Hot Tin Roof' and 'Broken Arrow' with Jimmy Stewart. It was a great way for a kid to see a movie.
Steve Bruce is like a cat on hot tin bricks.
On the mainland, a rain was falling. The famous Seattle rain. The thin, gray rain that toadstools love. The persistent rain that knows every hidden entrance into collar and shopping bag. The quiet rain that can rust a tin roof without the tin roof making a sound in protest. The shamanic rain that feeds the imagination. The rain that seems actually a secret language, whispering, like the ecstasy of primitives, of the essence of things.
I have to spring a cat out of Rumelt Animal Shelter. Think of it as a prison break." It does the trick. He laughs. "Whose cat?" "My cat. What do you think? That I break out the cats of strangers?" "Let me guess, she was framed. She's innocent.
She comes to me when she wants to be fed. And after I feed her -- guess what -- she's off to wherever she wants to be in the house, until the next time she gets hungry. She's smart enough to know she can't feed herself. She's actually a very smart cat. She gets loved. She gets adoration. She gets petted. She gets fed. And she doesn't have to do anything for it, which is why I say this cat's taught me more about women, than anything my whole life.
Oh, you weak, beautiful people who give up with such grace. What you need is someone to take hold of you--gently, with love, and hand your life back to you, like something gold you let go of--and I can! I'm determined to do it--and nothing's more determined than a cat on a tin roof--is there?
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