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You may charge me with murder--or want of sense-- (We are all of us weak at times): But the slightest approach to a false pretence Was never among my crimes!
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He thought he saw a Banker's Clerk Descending from the bus: He looked again, and found it was A Hippopotamus: 'If this should stay to dine,' he said, 'There won't be much for us!'
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What a strange world we live in...Said Alice to the Queen of hearts.
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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.
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All in the waning light she stood, The star of perfect womanhood.
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Ye golden hours 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 one bright summer-day.
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Alice had got so much into the way of expecting nothing but out-of-the-way things to happen, that it seemed quite dull and stupid for life to go on in the common way.
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Oh, when I was a little Ghost, A merry time had we! Each seated on his favourite post, We chumped and chawed the buttered toast They gave us for our tea.
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The dying crimson of the West That faintly tinged his haggard cheek, Fell on her as she stood, and shed A glory round the patient head.
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"I could have done it in a much more complicated way," said the Red Queen, immensely proud.
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I confess I do not admire naked boys. They always seem to me to need clothes, whereas one hardly sees why the lovely forms of girls should ever be covered up.
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To Her, whose children's smiles fed the narrator's fancy and were his rich reward: from the Author.
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Then proudly smiled that old man To see the eager lad Rush madly for his pen and ink And for his blotting-pad – But, when he thought of publishing, His face grew stern and sad.
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Speak roughly to your little boy and beat him when he sneezes! he only does it to annoy, because he knows it teases!
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I charm in vain; for never again, All keenly as my glance I bend, Will Memory, goddess coy, Embody for my joy Departed days, nor let me gaze On thee, my fairy friend!
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No good fish goes anywhere without a porpoise.
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The White Knight must not have whiskers; he must not be made to look old.
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The further off from England the nearer is to France- Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance.
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And so it fell upon a day, (That is, it never rose again)
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And she arose, and in that darkening room Stood lonely as a spirit of the night - Stood calm and fearless in the gathered night - And raised her eyes to heaven. There were tears Upon her face, but in her heart was peace. Peace that the world nor gives nor takes away!
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I have often seen a cat without a grin - but a grin without a cat - remember the cat kept appearing and disappearing slowly bit by bit.
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The day was wet, the rain fell souse Like jars of strawberry jam, a sound was heard in the old henhouse, A beating of a hammer.
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'What may I do?' at length I cried, Tired of the painful task. The fairy quietly replied, And said 'You must not ask.'
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'O gin I find anither ladye,' He said wi' sighs and tears, 'I wot my coortin' sall not be Anither thirty years:'For gin I find a ladye gay, Exactly to my taste, I'll pop the question, aye or nay, In twenty years at maist.'