Purring Quotes

“To err is human, to purr is feline.”
― Robert Byrne, The 2,548 Best Things Anybody Ever Said

“Cats were often familiars to workers of magic because to anyone used to wrestling with self-willed, wayward, devious magic—which was what all magic was—it was rather soothing to have all the same qualities wrapped up in a small, furry, generally attractive bundle that looked more or less the same from day to day and might, if it were in a good mood, sit on your knee and purr. Magic never sat on anybody’s knee and purred.”
― Robin McKinley, Spindle's End

“A cat can make you feel well rested when you're tired or turn a rage into a calm just by sitting on your lap. His very nearness is a healing song.”
― Shannon Hale, Book of a Thousand Days

“Cats make one of the most satisfying sounds in the world: they purr. [...] Almost all cats make us feel good about ourselves because they let us know they feel good about us, about themselves, and about our relationship with them. A purring cat is a form of high praise, like a gold star on a test paper. It is a reinforcement of soemthing we would all like to believe about ourselves -- that we are nice.”
― Roger A. Caras, A Celebration of Cats

“Sometimes I like her calm, unwild,
gentle as a sleeping child,
and wonder as she lies, a fur ring,
curled upon my lap, unstirring --
is it me or Tibbles purring?”
― Ian Serraillier

“all cats have a Spanish tinge although Puss himself elegantly lubricates his virile, muscular, native Bergamasque with French, since that is the only language in which you can purr.”
― Angela Carter, The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories

“No one has ever been able to discover how they make this subtle sound, and what is more, no one ever will. It is a secret that has endured from the very beginning of the time of cats and will never be revealed.”
― Paul Gallico

“Justin's small form was very still with excitement, his attention riveted on the black feline. "Look, Mama!"
Phoebe glanced at Mr. Ravenel. "Is she feral?"
"No, but she's undomesticated. We keep a few barn cats to reduce the rodent and insect population."
"Can I pet her?" Justin asked.
"You could try," Mr. Ravenel said, "but she won't come close enough. Barn cats prefer to keep their distance from people." His brows lifted as the small black cat made her way to Sebastian and curled around his leg, arching and purring. "With the apparent exception of dukes. My God, she's a snob."
Sebastian lowered to his haunches. "Come here, Justin," he murmured, gently kneading the cat along its spine to the base of its tail.
The child approached with his small hand outstretched.
"Softly," Sebastian cautioned. "Smooth her fur the same way it grows."
Justin stroked the cat carefully, his eyes growing round as her purring grew even louder. "How does she make that sound?"
"No one has yet found a satisfactory explanation," Sebastian replied. "Personally, I hope they never do."
"Why, Gramps?"
Sebastian smiled into the small face so close to his. "Sometimes the mystery is more delightful than the answer.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil's Daughter

“Some sounds are so exquisite - far more exquisite than anything seen. Daff's purr there on my rug, for instance - and the snap and crackle of the fire - and the squeaks and scrambles of mice that are having a jamboree behind the wainscot.”
― L.M. Montgomery, Emily Climbs

“The cat's purring was the motor that ran the Japanese woman's dreaming.”
― Richard Brautigan, Sombrero Fallout

“I have a cat, a stripedy cat with tickling whiskers and green electric eyes. She has the softest fur in the world. When I pet her she purrs as if she has a drum near her heart.”
― Joy Harjo, The Good Luck Cat

“When writing, I uncage KAT: Keep Adding Tension. Even if I don't know where the story's going, petting the KAT keeps it purring.”
― Don Roff

“Calmness through osmosis. It can be achieved by petting a cat, and your body absorbs the purring and integrates that healing frequency.”
― Jarod Kintz, There are Two Typos of People in This World: Those Who Can Edit and Those Who Can't

“I purr,
Therefore I am”
― Frank D. Prestia

“I crept through the trees and brush for no more than an hour before I felt a presence behind me- coming ever closer, sending the animals running for cover. I smiled to myself, and twenty minutes later, I settled in the crook of a towering elm and waited.

Brush rustled- hardly more than a breeze's passing, but I knew what to expect, knew the signs.

A snap and a roar of fury echoed across the lands, scattering the birds.

When I climbed out of the tree and walked in to the little clearing, I merely crossed my arms and looked up at the High Lord, dangling by his legs from the snare I'd laid.

Even upside down, he smiled lazily at me as I approached. 'Cruel human.'

He chuckled, and I came close enough to dare stroke a finger along the silken golden hair dangling just above my face, admiring the many colours within it- the hues of yellow and brown and wheat. My heart thundered, and I knew he could probably hear it. But he leaned his head toward me, a silent invitation, and I ran my fingers through his hair- gently, carefully. He purred, the sound rumbling through my fingers, arms, legs, and core. I wondered how that sound would feel if he were fully pressed up against me, skin-to-skin. I stepped back.

He curled upward in a smooth, powerful motion and swiped with a single claw at the creeping vine I'd use for rope. I took a breath to shout, but he flipped as he fell, landing smoothly on his feet. It would be impossible for me to ever forget what he was, and what he was capable of. He took a step closer to me, the laughter still dancing on his face.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses