Your hair wants cutting,” said the Hatter. He had been looking at Alice for some time with great curiosity, and this was his first speech. “You should learn not to make personal remarks,” Alice said with some severity; “it’s very rude.
Alice didn’t like being criticised, so she began asking questions. “Aren’t you sometimes frightened at being planted out here, with nobody to take care of you?” “There’s the tree in the middle,” said the Rose: “what else is it good for?” “But what could it do, if any danger came?” Alice asked. “It could bark,” said the Rose. “It says ‘Bough-wough!’ ” cried a Daisy, “that’s why its branches are called boughs!
The character of a ‘lunatic’ is not, I believe, very difficult to acquire: but it is amazingly difficult to get rid of.
Why, there they are!′ said the King triumphantly, pointing to the tarts on the table. ‘Nothing can be clearer than that. Then again – ” before she had this fit – ” you never had fits, my dear, I think?’ he said to the Queen.
Take some more tea,” the March Hare said to Alice, very earnestly. “I’ve had nothing yet,” Alice replied in an offended tone: “so I can’t take more.” “You mean you can’t take less,” said the Hatter: “it’s very easy to take more than nothing.
La mejor forma de explicar una cosa es hacerla.
First, she tried to look down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to see anything; then she looked at the sides of the well, and noticed that they were filled with cupboards and book-shelves; here and there she saw maps and pictures hung upon pegs. She took down a jar from one of the shelves as she.
When you’re older,” said the Professor, “you’ll know that you can’t put Mountains together again so easily!
Only I don’t think,′ Alice went on, ’that they’d let Dinah stop in the house if it began ordering people about like that!
You know very well you’re not real.
Alice felt dreadfully puzzled. The Hatter’s remark seemed to have no sort of meaning in it, and yet it was certainly English. ‘I don’t quite understand you,’ she said, as politely as she could.
So here’s a question for you. How old did you say you were?′ Alice made a short calculation, and said ‘Seven years and six months.’ ‘Wrong!’ Humpty Dumpty exclaimed triumphantly. ‘You never said a word like it!’ ‘I though you meant “How old ARE you?“’ Alice explained. ‘If I’d meant that, I’d have said it,’ said Humpty Dumpty. Alice didn’t want.
At last the Mouse, who seemed to be a person of authority among them, called out, ‘Sit down, all of you, and listen to me! I’ll soon make you dry enough!’ They all sat down at once, in a large ring, with the Mouse in the middle. Alice kept her eyes anxiously fixed on it, for she felt sure she would catch a bad cold if she did not get dry very soon.
Do you hear the snow against the window-panes, Kitty? How nice and soft it sounds! Just as if some one was kissing the window all over outside. I wonder if the snow LOVES the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, “Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.
Well, it’s got no business there, at any rate: go and take it away!′ There was a long silence after this, and Alice could only hear whispers now and then; such as, ‘Sure, I don’t.
I ca’n’t remember things before they happen.’ ‘It’s a poor sort of memory that only works backwards,’ the Queen remarked.
People have asked the question “Can a Thing exist without any Attributes belonging to it?” It is a very puzzling question, and I’m not going to try to answer it: let us turn up our noses, and treat it with contemptuous silence, as if it really wasn’t worth noticing.
Fury said to a mouse, That he met in the house, “Let us both go to law: I will prosecute you. – Come, I’ll take no denial; We must have a trial: For really this morning I’ve nothing to do.” Said the mouse to the cur, “Such a trial, dear Sir, With no jury or judge, would be wasting our breath.” “I’ll be judge, I’ll be jury,” Said cunning old Fury: “I’ll try the whole cause, and condemn you to death.
What a curious feeling!” said Alice; “I must be shutting up like a telescope.
In Winter, when the fields are white, I sing this song for your delight. In Spring, when the woods are getting green, I’ll try and tell you what i mean. In Summer, when the days are long, perhaps you’ll understand the song. In Autumn, when the leaves are brown, take pen and ink, and write it down.