“Why so scrawny, cat? Starving for fat fish or mice… Or backyard love?”

Real poetry, is to lead a beautiful life. To live poetry is better than to write it.

On a bare branch a crow is perched – autumn evening.

From all these trees, in the salads, the soup, everywhere, cherry blossoms fall.

There came a day when the clouds drifting along with the wind aroused a wanderlust in me, and I set off on a journey to roam along the seashores

I felt quite at home, / As if it were mine sleeping lazily / In this house of fresh air.

Do not seek to follow in the footsteps of the wise. Seek what they sought.

When I speak My lips feel cold – The autumn wind.

Nothing in the cry of cicadas suggests they are about to die.

Plunge Deep enough in order to see something that is hidden and glimmering.

From the pine tree, learn of the pine tree; And from the bamboo, of the bamboo.

The fact that Saigyo composed a poem that begins, “I shall be unhappy without loneliness,” shows that he made loneliness his master.

Sadly, I part from you; Like a clam torn from its shell, I go, and autumn too.

The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers.

Winter garden, the moon thinned to a thread, insects singing.

Between our two lives there is also the life of the cherry blossom.

When your consciousness has become ripe in true zazen-pure like clear water, like a serene mountain lake, not moved by any wind-then anything may serve as a medium for realization.

Cats invented self-esteem.

Like a wild cat in the Serengeti, I land on my feet and transcend reality.

I really am a cat transformed into a woman.

Pets reflect you like mirrors. When you are happy, you can see your dog smiling and when you are sad, your cat cries.

Pussy cat, pussy cat, I love you, yes I do. You and your pussy cat nose.

Karma was always a cat. It was destiny who behaved like a bitch.

My weakness? Anything with 4 legs.

In my next life I want to be a cat. To sleep 20 hours a day and wait to be fed.