“Just when you think you're in the cat-bird's seat, the Angel of Death calls "dibs" on shotgun.”

“He…He’s beautiful.” “I already called dibs,” I informed her and banged my hands twice on the table, demanding she adhere to the dibs rule. She snapped her attention back to me. “No, you didn’t! You never said dibs.” “DIBS!” I practically shouted at her. Her shoulders shrugged in defeat.”

“They call me the Angel of Death.”

“Hannah leaned against the wall. 'Mind if I call shotgun?''Since you're carrying one? Feel free.”

“When you're a cat, most of the time you're thinking about cat things. Little movements in the grass, cupboards that aren't quite closed, patches of sunlight on rocks, narrow places at the backs of closets - you're always noticing those things. You can't help yourself. It's boring if you think about it, but you don't think about it because you're a cat. ... sometimes you know what people want. You don't always care; but you know what they want.”

“When they are among us cats are angels”