I Cannot Even Pretend To Feel As

I'd Give All The Wealth That Years Have Piled, The Slow Result Of Life's Decay, To Be Once More A Little Child For One Bright Summer Day.

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!

I Do Not Know If Alice In Wonderland Was An Original Story-i Was, At Least, No Conscious Imitator In Writing It-but I Do Know That, Since It Came Out, Something Like A Dozen Story-books Have Appeared, On Identically The Same Pattern. The Path I Timidly Explored Believing Myself To Be 'the First That Ever Burst Into That Silent Sea'-is Now A Beaten High-road: All The Way-side Flowers Have Long Ago Been Trampled Into The Dust: And It Would Be Courting Disaster For Me To Attempt That Style Again.

Alice Came To A Fork In The Road. 'which Road Do I Take?' She Asked. 'where Do You Want To Go?' Responded The Cheshire Cat. 'i Don't Know,' Alice Answered. 'then,' Said The Cat, 'it Doesn't Matter.

It Is The Privilege Of True Genius, And Especially Genius Who Opens Up A New Path, To Make Great Mistakes With Impunity