Of all animals, he alone attains the Contemplative Life. He regards the wheel of existence from without, like the Buddha. There is no pretense of sympathy about the cat. He lives alone, aloft, sublime, in a wise passiveness.
Cats are dangerous companions for writers because cat watching is a near-perfect method of writing avoidance.
The little furry buggers are just deep, deep wells you throw all your emotions into.
A black cat dropped soundlessly from a high wall, like a spoonful of dark treacle, and melted under a gate.