Who In The World Am I? Ah,

I Maintain That Any Writer Of A Book Is Fully Authorised In Attaching Any Meaning He Likes To A Word Or Phrase He Intends To Use. If I Find An Author Saying, At The Beginning Of His Book, "let It Be Understood That By The Word 'black' I Shall Always Mean 'white,' And By The Word 'white' I Shall Always Mean 'black,'" I Meekly Accept His Ruling, However Injudicious I Think It.

It Is A Very Inconvenient Habit Of Kittens (alice Had Once Made The Remark) That, Whatever You Say To Them, They Always Purr: "if They Would Only Purr For 'yes,' And Mew For 'no,; Or Any Rule Of That Sort," She Had Said, "so That One Could Keep Up A Conversation! But How Can You Talk With A Person If They Always Say The Same Thing?

Still She Haunts Me, Phantomwise, Alice Moving Under Skies Never Seen By Waking Eyes.

My View Of Life Is, That It's Next To Impossible To Convince Anybody Of Anything.

Alice! A Childish Story Take, And With A Gentle Hand, Lay It Where Childhood's Dreams Are Twined In Memory's Mystic Band, Like Pilgrim's Withered Wreath Of Flowers Plucked In Far-off Land.