Is All Our Life, Then But A

Do Let's Pretend That I'm A Hungry Hyena, And You're A Bone!

Alice Tried Another Question. "what Sort Of People Live About Here?" "in That Direction," The Cat Said, Waving Its Right Paw Round, "lives A Hatter: And In That Direction," Waving The Other Paw, "lives A March Hare. Visit Either You Like: They're Both Mad." "but I Don't Want To Go Among Mad People," Alice Remarked. "oh, You Can't Help That," Said The Cat: "we're All Mad Here. I'm Mad. You're Mad." "how Do You Know I'm Mad?" Said Alice. "you Must Be," Said The Cat, "or You Wouldn't Have Come Here."

Be Sure The Safest Rule Is That We Should Not Dare To Live In Any Scene In Which We Dare Not Die. But, Once Realise What The True Object Is In Life — That It Is Not Pleasure, Not Knowledge, Not Even Fame Itself, 'that Last Infirmity Of Noble Minds' — But That It Is The Development Of Character, The Rising To A Higher, Nobler, Purer Standard, The Building-up Of The Perfect Man — And Then, So Long As We Feel That This Is Going On, And Will (we Trust) Go On For Evermore, Death Has For Us No Terror; It Is Not A Shadow, But A Light; Not An End, But A Beginning!

She Generally Gave Herself Very Good Advice, (though She Very Seldom Followed It).

‎you're Not The Same As You Were Before," He Said. You Were Much More... Muchier... You've Lost Your Muchness.