Good Lord! who can account for the fathomless folly of the public?

Cat said, 'I am not a friend, and I am not a Servant. I am the Cat who walks by himself, and I wish to come into your Cave.'

I have my own matches and sulphur, and I'll make my own hell.

This is a brief life, but in its brevity it offers us some splendid moments, some meaningful adventures.

I've a neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner, greener land!

All good people agree, And all good people say, All nice people, like Us, are We And every one else is They: But if you cross over the sea, Instead of over the way, You may end by (think of it!) looking on We As only a sort of They!

You sometimes see a woman who would have made a Joan of Arc in another century and climate, threshing herself to pieces over all the mean worry of housekeeping.