#Cats are marvelous creatures - they either adapt to circumstances, or decide to make circumstances adapt to them. Either way - they win.

Cats will be cats.

Being skilled in Catsism is like being a ninja only deadlier and not so silent. The only bad thing is the sickening grammar you have to use.

Fluttershyes are like regular shyes, only shinier, and, apparently - also shyer. Whenever petted - they don't flutter, but run away instead.

When Jarod Kintz gets married, I want to wear his grandpa to the ceremony, telling everyone we're Siamese twins from the future-past. Meow.

I'm like my cat. I run around in circles in my apartment, because the big bad outside is just too big. And scary. And outside. How do stray cats deal with all the stress of having no protection from all the air that’s going on around there, without anyone to guide and control it into timidity?

Translating from #cat is easy - you just ignore everything, then you decide what you want it to have said, thought, or wanted.

Backpackers can pack much more meows than baggers. Beggars never feed stray cats as street cats are self-sustaining.

Dark alleys, like social networks, are romantic, because you never know what might happen while I perform there every Caturday night. Cats do know, but won't tell. So don’t even ask.

There is no past, present, or future; there is only meow, right meow, and what you do with your one shot at life.