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Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe.
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I think I should understand that better, if I had it written down: but I can't quite follow it as you say it.
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It would be so nice if something made sense for a change.
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I wish I hadn't cried so much!” said Alice, as she swam about, trying to find her way out. I shall be punished for it now, I suppose, by being drowned in my own tears!
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Lastly, she pictured to herself how this same little sister of hers would, in the after-time, be herself a grown woman; and how she would keep, through all her riper years, the simple and loving heart of her childhood: and how she would gather about her other little children, and make their eyes bright and eager with many a strange tale, perhaps even with the dream of Wonderland of long ago: and how she would feel with all their simple sorrows, and find a pleasure in all their simple joys, remembering her own child-life, and the happy summer days.
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I am fond of children - except boys.
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Whatever is worth doing is worth doing well.
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You could not see a cloud, because No cloud was in the sky: No birds were flying overhead - There were no birds to fly.