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“Da. This is going very well already."

Thomas barked out a laugh. "There are seven of us against the Red King and his thirteen most powerful nobles, and it's going well?"

Mouse sneezed.

"Eight," Thomas corrected himself. He rolled his eyes and said, "And the psycho death faerie makes it nine."

"It is like movie," Sanya said, nodding. "Dibs on Legolas."

"Are you kidding?" Thomas said. "I'm obviously Legolas. You're . . ." He squinted thoughtfully at Sanya and then at Martin. "Well. He's Boromir and you're clearly Aragorn."

"Martin is so dour, he is more like Gimli." Sanya pointed at Susan. "Her sword is much more like Aragorn's."

"Aragorn wishes he looked that good," countered Thomas.

"What about Karrin?" Sanya asked.

"What--for Gimli?" Thomas mused. "She is fairly--"

"Finish that sentence, Raith, and we throw down," said Murphy in a calm, level voice.

"Tough," Thomas said, his expression aggrieved. "I was going to say 'tough.' "

As the discussion went on--with Molly's sponsorship, Mouse was lobbying to claim Gimli on the basis of being the shortest, the stoutest, and the hairiest--

"Sanya," I said. "Who did I get cast as?"

"Sam," Sanya said.

I blinked at him. "Not . . . Oh, for crying out loud, it was perfectly obvious who I should have been."

Sanya shrugged. "It was no contest. They gave Gandalf to your godmother. You got Sam.”
― Jim Butcher, Changes

“Lea stood upon a fallen log ahead of us, staring ahead. Mouse walked up to her.

Gggrrrr rawf arrrgggrrrrarrrr," I said.

Mouse gave me an impatient glance, and somehow--I don't know if it was something in his body language or what--I became aware that he was telling me to sit down and shut up or he'd come over and make me.

I sat down. Something in me really didn't like that idea, but when I looked around, I saw that everyone else had done it too, and that made me feel better.

Mouse said, again in what sounded like perfectly clear English, "Funny. Now restore them."

Lea turned to look at the big dog and said, "Do you dare to give me commands, hound?"

Not your hound," Mouse said. I didn't know how he was doing it. His mouth wasn't moving or anything. "Restore them before I rip your ass off. Literally rip it off."

The Leanansidhe tilted her head back and let out a low laugh. "You are far from your sources of power here, my dear demon."

I live with a wizard. I cheat." He took a step toward her and his lips peeled up from his fangs in unmistakable hostility. "You want to restore them? Or do I kill you and get them back that way?"

Lea narrowed her eyes. Then she said, "You're bluffing."

One of the big dog's huge, clawed paws dug at the ground, as if bracing him for a leap, and his growl seemed to . . . I looked down and checked. It didn't seem to shake the ground. The ground was actually shaking for several feet in every direction of the dog. Motes of blue light began to fall from his jaws, thickly enough that it looked quite a bit like he was foaming at the mouth. "Try me."

The Leanansidhe shook her head slowly. Then she said, "How did Dresden ever win you?"

He didn't," Mouse said. "I won him.”
― Jim Butcher, Changes

“I realized then what had happened.

She had turned us--all of us, except for Mouse--into great, gaunt, long-legged hounds.

Wonderful!" Lea said, pirouetting upon one toe, laughing. "Come, children!" And she leapt off into the jungle, nimble and swift as a doe.

A bunch of us dogs stood around for a moment, just sort of staring at one another.

And Mouse said, in what sounded to me like perfectly understandable English, "That bitch.”
― Jim Butcher, Changes

“Look," I whisper to Cat, "Shooting star! That's good luck."
She rolls her eyes. "It's a plane, you idiot," she says, and when I look again I can see that she's right. Typical.”
― Cathy Cassidy, Lucky Star

“The second mouse gets the cheese!”
― Terry Pratchett, The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents

“Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim'rous beastie,
O, what a panic's in thy breastie! ”
― Robert Burns

“There was something dead in my heart.
I tried to figure out what it was by the strength of the smell. I knew that it was not a lion or a sheep or a dog. Using logical deduction, I came to the conclusion that it was a mouse.
I had a dead mouse in my heart.”
― Richard Brautigan, Tokyo-Montana Express

“When the little mouse, which was loved as none other was in the mouse-world, got into a trap one night and with a shrill scream forfeited its life for the sight of the bacon, all the mice in the district, in their holes were overcome by trembling and shaking; with eyes blinking uncontrollably they gazed at each other one by one, while their tails scraped the ground busily and senselessly. Then they came out, hesitantly, pushing one another, all drawn towards the scene of death. There it lay, the dear little mouse, its neck caught in the deadly iron, the little pink legs drawn up, and now stiff the feeble body that would so well have deserved a scrap of bacon.
The parents stood beside it and eyed their child's remains.”
― Franz Kafka, Blue Octavo Notebooks

“Lena felt like a child. Worse than a child and less valuable. She felt like a mouse. No, smaller than a mouse and less alive. Her life seemed so small and crumpled you could shoot it through a straw like a spitball.”
― Ann Brashares, Sisterhood Everlasting

“Mossflower lay deep in the grip of midwinter beneath a sky of leaden gray that showed tinges of scarlet and orange on the horizon. A cold mantle of snow draped the landscape, covering the flatlands to the west. Snow was everywhere, filling ditches, drifting high against hedgerows, making paths invisible, smoothing the contours of earth in its white embrace. The gaunt, leafless ceiling of Mossflower Wood was penetrated by constant snowfall, which carpeted the sprawling woodland floor, building canopies on evergreen shrubs and bushes. Winter had muted the earth; the muffled stillness was broken only by a traveler’s paws.”
― Brian Jacques, Mossflower

“Oh, there had been divorced Presidents, even, late in the twentieth century, one who had survived a White House divorce to the extent of being re-elected. Of course old Gus Time hadn't made any mistake in the marital department. Sixty years of wedded bliss. The grin came and went. Old fox! They said when he was in his early twenties and so new in Washington he still smacked of the boondocks, he had cast his eyes around all the Washington wives: he picked Senator Black's wife Olive for her beauty, her brains, her organizational genius and her relish of public life, then simply stole her from the Senator. It worked, though she was thirteen years older than he. She was the greatest First Lady the country had ever known. But behind the scenes - Oh man, what a tartar! Not that he had ever heard old Gus complain. The public lion was perfectly content to be a private mouse. Gus do this, Gus don't do that - and he was so lost when she died that he abandoned Washington the moment her funeral was over, went to live in his home state of Iowa and died himself not two months later.”
― Colleen McCullough, A Creed for the Third Millennium

“Life is no way to treat an animal, not even a mouse”
― Vonnegut Kurt

“Run after an elephant and you will find out why you are not a mouse.”
― Anthony T. Hincks

“I'm only here for the food. I'll pass on the fun.”
― Jay Reeves, Kitty Kat Kitty Goes to the Circus

“I had to set the mouse trap three times before I finally caught the mouse. And that’s because I under-estimated the mouse, I over-estimated the trap, and I under-estimated the fact that I over-estimated myself.”
― Craig D. Lounsbrough

“The Merry Chrismouse by Stewart Stafford

What a time for the merry Chrismouse,
Making toys in his workshop/house,
Everyone contributes, even his spouse,
With Christmas cheer, no one will douse.

A sprig of holly for a present tree,
Blizzard snow is grated cheese,
The kindly rodent set to please,
When he comes on Christmas Eve.

Nuts and seeds on their button table,
Playing games and telling fables,
Discarded tinsel on the wall of gable,
In midwinter's icy spell unstable.

A time for amnesia that felines exist,
Kindness and joy at their fingertips,
Baby mice excitedly make lists,
To have many gifts when they insist.

© Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“A mouse would solve this handily, / except I like to probe unknowns / and be amazed by what I find / along the corners of your mind. / Wherever you will let me start, / l love to learn your ways by heart.

(from Amazed)”
― Robert J. Tiess, The Humbling and Other Poems

“If Stephanie wants to play cat-and-mouse ... she can be the mouse. I will be the cat. The cat is patient. The mouse is scared. The mouse has reason to be scared. Because the cat always wins. The cat is the one having fun.”
― Darcey Bell, A Simple Favor

“The solution to writing a book with my broken keyboard, was just using the mouse.”
― Alan Maiccon

“Don't ask me for directions, you'll get lost.”
― Ozgen Halil, Henrietta Hen In Trouble Again

“A mouse will climb a mountain just to get a piece of cheese”
― Charmaine J. Forde

“I only hope that we never lose sight of one thing - that it all started with a mouse”
― Walt Disney

“I was not prey any longer, I decided as I eased up to that door.

And I was not a mouse.

I was a wolf.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“Wolf or mouse, it made no difference, because I became no more than an animal, sizing up my chance of survival.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“Although the mouse has more to do with our domestic space than any other wild mammal, it remains largely a mystery, inhabiting secret spaces within our homes that we cannot see: inaccessible labyrinths between walls and under floorboards, accessed only through the mousehole, a door to another world.”
― Georgie Carroll, Mouse

“Love is a terrible thing," Mouse whispered.
"Only love gone astray," said the prisoner. "Only imperfect love."
Mouse tried once more, feebly, to shake off the prisoner's grip. "You frighten me."
"Oh, child!" said the prisoner. "The time has come you should be frightened. If fear will awaken you, be afraid! And then be courageous in your fear and act!"
"There's nothing I can do."
"You aren't the mouse they have made you be. You were meant for so much more!”
― Anne Elisabeth Stengl, Dragonwitch

“I think I’ve got the tailor!â€�
“I’m not a tailor! I’m a criminal! This is a weapon!�
*Poke*
“O·É!â€�
“This ain’t Cinderella!”
― Georgia Dunn, Take It Away, Tommy!: A Breaking Cat News Adventure

“The free cheese in a mousetrap is only for the mouse.”
― Tamerlan Kuzgov

“But something seemed funny,
even strange and surreal.
When she called her friends mouses,
was that right? What's the deal?”
― Joseph L. Licari, Mia's Mouses: Mia and Her Mouse Friends Learn About Plural Nouns

“Good ink, good parchment, precious time - and all for the sake of a mouse in a glove.â€�
Cian Brydydd Mawr smiled tenderly at him.
“Maybe one day, Iago ap Rhys, in a world you cannot imagine, people will thank you for a mouse in a glove.”
― Hugh Lupton, The Assembly of the Severed Head