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Our environments shape the way we see ourselves. If you have been condemned to live in an area that is pretty evidently a rat-run, then sooner or later you're gonna come to the conclusion that you're a rat.

I don't like rats, but there's not much else I don't like. The problem with rats is they have no fear of human beings, they're loaded with foul diseases, they would run the place given half the chance, and I've had them leap out of a lavatory while I've been sitting on it.

I actually don't mind rats at all. I kind of think they're quite cute, but that's just me.

Even rats can only be kicked around for so long before they've had enough.

Rodents can come across as being quite vacant in the personality stakes.

I'm deathly afraid of rats.

I wouldn't mind the rat race - if the rats would lose once in a while.

I am not a fan of rats or pigeons. In New York City, they have become very confident. When I was a child, you went on the subways, and the rats would stay down on the tracks, but now they hang out on the platform.

I do feel like by buying rats from a pet store, you are saving them because if not, they would get fed to a snake or something.

When it began to grow dark, the Rat, with an air of excitement and mystery, summoned them back into the parlour, stood each of them up alongside of his little heap, and proceeded to dress them up for the coming expedition.