It’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.
Lewis CarrollTags: humor inspirational alice psychological philosophy-of-life yesterday
No, no! The adventures first, explanations take such a dreadful time.
Lewis CarrollTags: adventure patience storytelling explanations
When the sands are all dry, he is gay as a lark,
And will talk in contemptuous tones of the Shark:
But, when the tide rises and sharks are around,
His voice has a timid and tremulous sound.
Tags: cowardice
One! two! and through and through
The vorpal blade went snickersnack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
Tags: poetry children portmanteau
I know who I WAS when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then
Lewis CarrollWhen I used to read fairy-tales, I fancied that kind of thing never happened, and now here I am in the middle of one!
Lewis CarrollHow puzzling all these changes are! I'm never sure what I'm going to be, from one minute to another.
Lewis CarrollIf everybody minded their own business, the world would go around a great deal faster than it does.
Lewis CarrollTags: alice-in-wonderland carroll
It is a very inconvenient habit of kittens (Alice had once made the remark) that whatever you say to them, they always purr.
Lewis CarrollTags: alice habits purr kittens
I love the stillness of the wood;
I love the music of the rill:
I love the couch in pensive mod
Upon some silent hill.
Scarce heard, beneath yon arching trees,
The silver-crested ripples pass;
and, like a mimic brook, the breeze
Whispers among the grass.
Here from the world I win release,
Nor scorn of men, nor footstep rude,
Break into mar the holy peace
Of this great solitude.
Here may the silent tears I weep
Lull the vested spirit into rest,
As infants sob themselves to sleep
Upon a mothers breast.
But when the bitter hour is gone,
And the keen throbbing pangs are still,
Oh, sweetest then to couch alone
Upon some silent hill!
To live in joys that once have been,
To put the cold world out of sight,
And deck life's drear and barren scene
With hues of rainbow-light.
For what to man the gift of breath,
If sorrow be his lot below;
If all the day that ends in death
Be dark with clouds of woe?
Shall the poor transport of an hour
Repay long years of sore distress-
The fragrance of a lonely flower
Make glad the wilderness?
Ye golden house of life's young spring,
Of innocence, of love and truth!
Bright, beyond all imagining,
Thou fairy-dream of youth!
I'd give all wealth that years have piled,
The slow result of Life's decay,
To be once more a little child
For on bright summers day.
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