Soup Of The Evening, Beautiful Soup!

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.

For First You Write A Sentence, And Then You Chop It Small; Then Mix The Bits And Sort Them Out Just As They Chance To Fall: The Order Of The Phrases Makes No Difference At All.

I'm Getting Rather Hoarse, I Fear, After So Much Reciting: So, If You Don't Object, My Dear, We'll Try A Glass Of Bitter Beer - I Think It Looks Inviting.

'o Tiger-lily,' Said Alice... 'i Wish You Could Talk!' 'we Can Talk,' Said The Tiger-lily: 'when There's Anybody Worth Talking To."