There is a place. Like no place on Earth. A land full of wonder, mystery, and danger! Some say to survive it: You need to be as mad as a hatter. Which luckily I am.
Sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.
If you don't know where you are going, you might wind up someplace else.
I don't think..." then you shouldn't talk, said the Hatter.
'The time has come,' the walrus said, 'to talk of many things: of shoes and ships - and sealing wax - of cabbages and kings.'
I can't explain myself, I'm afraid, sir,' said Alice, 'Because I'm not myself you see.
Be what you would seem to be - or, if you'd like it put more simply - never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appeared to them to be otherwise.
In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again.
Speak English!' said the Eaglet. 'I don't know the meaning of half those long words, and I don't believe you do either!
I could tell you my adventures—beginning from this morning,” said Alice a little timidly; “but it’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.
Contrariwise, if it was so, it might be; and if it were so, it would be; but as it isn't, it ain't. That's logic.
When I used to read fairy-tales, I fancied that kind of thing never happened, and now here I am in the middle of one!
Imagination is the only weapon in the war against reality.
Who ARE You?" This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, I--I hardly know, sir, just at present-- at least I know who I WAS when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.
Alice: This is impossible. The Mad Hatter: Only if you believe it is.
It takes all the running you can do just to keep in the same place.
In a Wonderland they lie, Dreaming as the days go by, Dreaming as the summers die: Ever drifting down the stream- Lingering in the golden gleam- Life, what is it but a dream?
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?
Did you ever, in that wonderland wilderness of adolesence [sic] ever, quite unexpectedly, see something, a dusk sky, a wild bird, a landscape, so exquisite terror touched you at the bone? And you are afraid, terribly afraid the smallest movement, a leaf, say, turning in the wind, will shatter all? That is, I think, the way love is, or should be: one lives in beautiful terror.
Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place. If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!
One can't believe impossible things.
If you don't know where you are currently standing, you're dead.
If everybody minded their own business... the world would go round a deal faster than it does.
I know who I WAS when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then
"Well, I never heard it before," said the Mock Turtle; "but it sounds uncommon nonsense."
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