So She Was Considering In Her Own

I'm Very Much Afraid I Didn't Mean Anything But Nonsense. Still, You Know, Words Mean More Than We Mean To Express When We Use Them; So A Whole Book Ought To Mean A Great Deal More Than The Writer Means. So, Whatever Good Meanings Are In The Book, I'm Glad To Accept As The Meaning Of The Book.

They've A Temper, Some Of Them - Particularly Verbs, They're The Proudest - Adjectives You Can Do Anything With, But Not Verbs.

Be Who You Are, Said The Duchess To Alice, Or, If You Would Like It Put More Simply, Never Try To Be What You Might Have Been Or Could Have Been Other Than What You Should Have Been.

I'm Doubtful About The Temper Of Your Flamingo. Shall I Try The Experiment?

When, As A Child, I First Opened My Eyes On A Sunday-morning, A Feeling Of Dismal Anicipation, Which Began At Least On The Friday,culminated. I Knew What Was Before Me, And My Wish, If Not My Word, Was "would God It Were Evening!" It Was No Day Of Rest, But A Day Of Texts, Of Catechisms (watts'), Of Tracts About Converted Swearers, Godly Charwomen, And Edifying Deaths Of Sinners Saved.... There Was But One Rosy Spot, In The Distance, All That Day: And That Was "bed-time," Which Never Could Come Too Early!