The good poet welds his theft into a whole of feeling which is unique, utterly different from that from which it was torn; the bad poet throws it into something which has no cohesion.

It is generally a feminine eye that first detects the moral deficiencies hidden under the 'dear deceit' of beauty.

So the lover must struggle for words.

Cats must have three names-an everyday name, such as Peter; a more particular, dignified name, such as Quaxo, Bombalurina, or Jellylorum; and, thirdly, the name the cat thinks up for himself, his deep and inscrutable singular Name.

To do the useful thing, to say the courageous thing, to contemplate the beautiful thing: that is enough for one man's life.

There's no vocabulary For love within a family, love that's lived in But not looked at, love within the light of which All else is seen, the love within which All other love finds speech. This love is silent.

Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macavity, there never was a cat of such deceitfulness and sauvity.