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I distrust those people who know so well what God wants them to do because I notice it always coincides with their own desires.
I do not like the way you slide,
I do not like your soft inside,
I do not like you lots of ways,
And I could do for many days
Without eggs.
With tail erect and pompous march,
The proudest puss that ever trod,
Through many a grove, 'neath many an arch,
Impenetrable as a god.
Thinks when we stroke him he's doing us a favour
Maybe he's right, at that.
This is the Cat, that killed the rat,
That ate the malt,
That lay in the house that Jack built.
~ Mother Goose rhyme ~