Little Alice fell d o w n the hOle, bumped her head and bruised her soul

That which chiefly causes the failure of a dinner-party, is the running short--not of meat, nor yet of drink, but of conversation.

And if he left off dreaming about you, where do you suppose you'd be?

It's jam every other day: to-day isn't any other day, you know.

If he smiled much more, the ends of his mouth might meet behind, and then I don't know what would happen to his head! I'm afraid it would come off!

Beware the Jabberwock, my son The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun The frumious Bandersnatch!

Of course it is,’ said the Duchess, who seemed ready to agree to everything that Alice said; ‘there’s a large mustard-mine near here. And the moral of that is– “The more there is of mine, the less there is of yours.