Agnes Aubert's Mystical Cat Shelter Quotes

“it’s near impossible to own a cat without falling in love with it.”
― Heather Fawcett, Agnes Aubert's Mystical Cat Shelter

“Would not the world be better off if we contented ourselves with the small miracles of life?”
― Heather Fawcett, Agnes Aubert's Mystical Cat Shelter

“I cannot tolerate it when people dislike me. I never stop thinking about it, to the point where it is like I am wearing their dislike wherever I go, which chafes like wet shoes.”
― Heather Fawcett, Agnes Aubert's Mystical Cat Shelter

“I would rather be taken advantage of now and again than go through life seeing monsters everywhere.”
― Heather Fawcett, Agnes Aubert's Mystical Cat Shelter

“I’m not going to poison you. Wouldn’t be much point, given that you’re nothing but moonlight and cobwebs.”
― Heather Fawcett, Agnes Aubert's Mystical Cat Shelter

“She’s a cat, and cats always find a gap.”
― Heather Fawcett, Agnes Aubert's Mystical Cat Shelter

“It was in that moment that I realized two things: one, I had done magic ; and two, I was beginning to have feelings for Havelock Renard. I had no idea which was more upsetting and incomprehensible.”
― Heather Fawcett, Agnes Aubert's Mystical Cat Shelter

“Was an echo any better than silence if it brought to mind the absence over and over again?”
― Heather Fawcett, Agnes Aubert's Mystical Cat Shelter

“I simply see no reason to respect the sort of people who have the power to do a great deal of good, but can’t be bothered to.” “Oh, some can,” he said. “Though they’re few and far between. Must magic be useful? Can’t it simply be beautiful, like art?”
― Heather Fawcett, Agnes Aubert's Mystical Cat Shelter

“But the woman was still holding Thoreau, and there were the other cats, only a few of whom were paying us any attention -- the bulk slept or groomed themselves, characteristically disdainful of all but their own concerns, even and including an impeding magical cataclysm. Clowder was licking her rear end.”
― Heather Fawcett, Agnes Aubert's Mystical Cat Shelter

“He stopped a pace or two away, though, staring at me. “Agnes,” he said. “You’re here.”
― Heather Fawcett, Agnes Aubert's Mystical Cat Shelter

“He was the sort of person one couldn’t help staring at, an optical illusion my eyes needed to solve.”
― Heather Fawcett, Agnes Aubert's Mystical Cat Shelter

“yet the human heart is an eclectic thing, an assemblage of prejudices and affections,”
― Heather Fawcett, Agnes Aubert's Mystical Cat Shelter

“Poor Ambulance had been adopted twice now, and twice returned to the shelter. Unfortunately, in addition to his lamentable vocal cords, the cat had the personality of a raccoon. He had proven himself a menace to both of the households who had taken him in, getting into the garbage no matter how many obstacles were placed in his way, clambering up curtains, and knocking over any item that wasn’t at least twice his weight, particularly if it was easily broken. I scratched Ambulance’s cheek, and the cat leaned into me, purring thunderously. Aside from his destructive tendencies, he had an exceptional temperament, and I knew he only needed a caretaker who would be patient with him and correct his misbehaviour. I would not give up on him, even as part of me despaired at the prospect of him being returned a third time. It was not good for a cat, who could fall in love with their caretakers as easily as the reverse. After the second home failed, Ambulance had curled himself into his nest of scarves for three days, barely stirring even to nibble at his food.”
― Heather Fawcett, Agnes Aubert's Mystical Cat Shelter

“His Majesty skulked in the darkness against the far wall—patrolling for mice, I assumed. He liked to leave their bloody corpses lined up by my bed at night so that I could be cheered by the spectacle of his hunting prowess immediately upon awakening.”
― Heather Fawcett, Agnes Aubert's Mystical Cat Shelter

“I took up the pen again and used it to identify the spell in a medieval broom made from birch twigs, which turned out to be—quite logically—a spell for freshening a room. I’d found that most older spells were of a utilitarian nature and accorded with the Artefacts that bound them, whereas modern magicians tended towards unnecessary whimsy, like putting a spell for concealment in a gaudy floral parasol.”
― Heather Fawcett, Agnes Aubert's Mystical Cat Shelter

“And when they realize most of your cats aren’t actually magic?” Havelock said. I waved a hand. “Some will convince themselves otherwise. For most, it won’t matter in the end; it’s near impossible to own a cat without falling in love with it. Don’t you see? If we can get the people in this city used to taking care of cats, to seeing them as companions more than beasts, we could put an end to the street cat population. That means an end to cats freezing to death in winter, to suffering injury and illness alone and uncared for. To say nothing of the benefits they offer their owners!” I made myself stop, as I could feel myself beginning to tremble with excitement.”
― Heather Fawcett, Agnes Aubert's Mystical Cat Shelter

“I glanced around the room, which, now that I was able to focus on it, seemed specially designed to maximize comfort. In addition to the couch there were two wide, squashy armchairs, and lamps perched on various tables and bookshelves. Wool rugs were scattered about, a few heaped in a pile in front of the fire, as if Havelock were in the habit of curling up there when the fancy took him. On the whole, it was more like the manifestation of some librarian’s fantasy than a dark magician’s lair. “Yannick thinks you store your most powerful spells down here,” I said. “Yes. He leaves me alone that way.” I gave a huff of laughter. “He said the trapdoor was locked.” “I never bothered with a locking spell. I just told him it was, and he never tested it.”
― Heather Fawcett, Agnes Aubert's Mystical Cat Shelter

“I had come to a stop for probably the tenth time, just outside a restaurant, its windows steamed and glowing as the lilt of a violin drifted through the door, certain that I would turn around. Naturally, that was when I saw him. He was only an insignificant shape to my eye at first, small and pale, a discarded sheaf of paper, possibly, crumpled by the wind. But then the shape moved, and the light caught in his eyes. He was three months old, I guessed, not yet full-grown but lacking the bumbling locomotion of early kittenhood. He was slender as a shadow, and quite afraid of me, but despite his fear he came to me immediately when I crouched down, which told me all I needed to know.”
― Heather Fawcett, Agnes Aubert's Mystical Cat Shelter

“Banshee was sympathetic, though this was more distracting than anything else. She kept trying to bat the tears from my face no matter how often I pushed her away, seeming to assume, as she generally did, that the tears were the cause of my distress rather than a product of it, and thus an enemy to be vanquished.”
― Heather Fawcett, Agnes Aubert's Mystical Cat Shelter

“Banshee’s name came from her curious voicelessness; never had I heard her make a sound, purring excepted, though she often seemed to be trying, sometimes even wandering about the place opening and closing her mouth in my direction, as if desperate to warn me of some impending doom. Robin and I used to joke that she was, in fact, creating an appalling racket, but that it was a sound that could be heard only by the inhabitants of some unhallowed supernatural realm.”
― Heather Fawcett, Agnes Aubert's Mystical Cat Shelter

“If any beast were an exception to the laws of space or time”
― Heather Fawcett, Agnes Aubert's Mystical Cat Shelter

“He liked to leave their bloody corpses lined up by my bed at night so that I could be cheered by the spectacle of his hunting prowess immediately upon awakening.”
― Heather Fawcett, Agnes Aubert's Mystical Cat Shelter

“Of course you would see an absence of chaos as wreaking havoc,” I said. “And you say you aren’t a dark magician.”
― Heather Fawcett, Agnes Aubert's Mystical Cat Shelter