Garfield: I learned to think on my feet in my fourth life. Thinking was all right, I guess, but now I avoid it whenever possible.
Jon: How are you this morning, Garfield?
Garfield: In a good mood. I let the mail man live.
Garfield: Garfield the newborn kitten is getting ready to rub up against his first leg. On my mark, get set, rub up.
Garfield: Six must be my lucky number, because that was the life when I fell in love with music. I also fell in love with the girl who played the piano just for me.
Garfield: 2,000 BC was a good year to be a cat in Egypt. We were revered, even worshipped. Ah, for the good ole days.
Garfield: In my seventh life, I was a laboratory animal. To this day, every time I see a test tube, I throw up.
Garfield: Space. One thing to be said about space: sure is a lot of it out there. So what do you do with space? You can take part in grand intergalactic battles and encompass old solar systems. Or you can bravely forge new worlds of exploration by traveling through uncharted territory. Or you can get lost. Me? I'm lost. Finding out where the heck I am is still secondary, though. What I want to know is - why am I here?
Garfield: All that I ever was made me what I am in my eighth life. Somehow, it's fallen short of my expectations.
Amenhotep III: Oooh, shucks! I don't see any surprise around here! Oooooh, sometimes that Blackbart makes me so maaaaaad.
Caveman: Good cat! Good cat.
Garfield: My survival sounds like a job for O. D. I. E., my Operations Data Index Element. It's the smartest machine in the galaxy.
Garfield: In my first life, I formulated many of my likes and dislikes. I disliked my rock bed. On the other hand, you wouldn't believe the size of the pterodon drumsticks.
