If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrariwise, what it is, it wouldn't be. And what it wouldn't be it would. You see?

Photography is my one recreation and I think it should be done well.

Come back!" the Caterpillar called after her. "I've something important to say." This sounded promising, certainly. Alice turned and came back again. "Keep your temper," said the Caterpillar.

"Write that down," the King said to the jury, and the jury eagerly wrote down all three dates on their slates, and then added them up, and reduced the answer to shillings and pence.

‎You're not the same as you were before," he said. You were much more... muchier... you've lost your muchness.

Yet what are all such gaieties to me whose thoughts are full of indices and surds?

We're all mad here.