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The past scampers like an alley cat through the present, leaving the paw prints of memories scattered helter-skelter.
— Charles de Lint
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It's just an old alley cat that has followed us all the way home. It hasn't a star on its forehead, or a silky satiny coat. No proud tiger stripes, no dainty tread, no elegant velvet throat. It's a splotchy, blotchy city cat, not a pretty cat, a rough little bag of old bones. 'Beauty,' we shall call you. 'Beauty' come in.
— Eve Merriam
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