He lives in the halflights in secret places, free and alone, this mysterious little great being whom his mistress calls, My cat.

Dogs have owners, cats have staff.

Reason cannot remain a bare intellectual faculty; it must become a faculty of judgment dealing with the question of values.

The cat is, above all things, a dramatist.

He lives in the halflights in secret places, free and alone, this mysterious little great being whom his mistress calls, My cat.

The spiritual is not the emotional; we may receive spiritual things emotionally, but to receive them rationally we must receive them with the mind and the will; we must act on them, we must experiment on them, we must let them permeate our consciousness.

But none of us wants to be average. That we are so is a melancholy fact borne in upon us in middle life, and we do not always relish it.