We Are But Older Children, Dear, Who

One Can't Believe Impossible Things.

She Felt A Little Nervous About This; 'for It Might End, You Know,' Said Alice To Herself, 'in My Going Out Altogether, Like A Candle. I Wonder What I Should Be Like Then?' And She Tried To Fancy What The Flame Of A Candle Looks Like After The Candle Is Blown Out, For She Could Not Remember Ever Having Seen Such A Thing.

How Doth The Little Crocodile Improve His Shining Tail, And Pour The Waters Of The Nile On Every Golden Scale! How Cheerfully He Seems To Grin, How Neatly He Spreads His Claws, And Welcomes Little Fishes In, With Gently Smiling Jaws!

Be Sure The Safest Rule Is That We Should Not Dare To Live In Any Scene In Which We Dare Not Die. But, Once Realise What The True Object Is In Life — That It Is Not Pleasure, Not Knowledge, Not Even Fame Itself, 'that Last Infirmity Of Noble Minds' — But That It Is The Development Of Character, The Rising To A Higher, Nobler, Purer Standard, The Building-up Of The Perfect Man — And Then, So Long As We Feel That This Is Going On, And Will (we Trust) Go On For Evermore, Death Has For Us No Terror; It Is Not A Shadow, But A Light; Not An End, But A Beginning!

"she Can't Do Subtraction." Said The White Queen. "can You Do Division? Divide A Loaf By A Knife-what's The Answer To That?" "i Suppose-" Alice Was Beginning, But The Red Queen Answered For Her. "bread-and-butter, Of Course."