Lewis Carroll
Lewis Carroll
Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, better known by his pen name Lewis Carroll, was an English writer, mathematician, logician, Anglican deacon, and photographer. His most famous writings are Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, its sequel Through the Looking-Glass, which includes the poem "Jabberwocky", and the poem The Hunting of the Snark, all examples of the genre of literary nonsense. He is noted for his facility at word play, logic, and fantasy. There are societies in many parts of the world dedicated to the...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth27 January 1832
CityDaresbury, England
Courtesy while you're thinking what to say. It saves time.
But I was thinking of a plan to dye one's whiskers green.
I know what you're thinking about, but it isn't so, nohow. Contrarywise, if it was so, it might be, and if it were so, it would be. But, as it isn't, it ain't. That's logic.
I wonder if I've been changed in the night. Let me think. Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is 'Who in the world am I?' Ah, that's the great puzzle!
Well, it’s no use your talking about waking him, said Tweedledum, when you’re only one of the things in his dream. You know very well you’re not real. I am real! said Alice, and began to cry. You won’t make yourself a bit realer by crying, Tweedledee remarked: there’s nothing to cry about. If I wasn’t real, Alice said– half laughing through her tears, it all seemed so ridiculous– I shouldn’t be able to cry. I hope you don’t think those are real tears? Tweedledee interrupted in a tone of great contempt.
You're thinking about something, my dear, and that makes you forget to talk.
Cheshire Cat: If I were looking for a white rabbit, I'd ask the Mad Hatter. Alice: The Mad Hatter? Oh, no no no... Cheshire Cat: Or, you could ask the March Hare, in that direction. Alice: Oh, thank you. I think I'll see him... Cheshire Cat: Of course, he's mad, too. Alice: But I don't want to go among mad people. Cheshire Cat: Oh, you can't help that. Most everyone's mad here. [laughs maniacally; starts to disappear] Cheshire Cat: You may have noticed that I'm not all there myself.
I think I should understand that better, if I had it written down: but I can't quite follow it as you say it.
Curtsey while you're thinking what to say. It saves time.
I maintain that any writer of a book is fully authorised in attaching any meaning he likes to a word or phrase he intends to use. If I find an author saying, at the beginning of his book, "Let it be understood that by the word 'black' I shall always mean 'white,' and by the word 'white' I shall always mean 'black,'" I meekly accept his ruling, however injudicious I think it.
Alice thought to herself, 'Then there's no use in speaking.' The voices didn't join in this time, as she hadn't spoken, but to her great surprise, they all thought in chorus (I hope you understand what thinking in chorus means--for I must confess that I don't), 'Better say nothing at all. Language is worth a thousand pounds a word!
Who ARE You?" This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, I--I hardly know, sir, just at present-- at least I know who I WAS when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.
I don't think..." then you shouldn't talk, said the Hatter.
It’s a miserable story!” said Bruno. “It begins miserably, and it ends miserablier. I think I shall cry. Sylvie, please lend me your handkerchief.” “I haven’t got it with me,” Sylvie whispered. “Then I won’t cry,” said Bruno manfully.