All That Matters Is What We Do

And Here Alice Began To Get Rather Sleepy, And Went On Saying To Herself, In A Dreamy Sort Of Way, 'do Cats Eat Bats? Do Cats Eat Bats?' And Sometimes, 'do Bats Eat Cats?' For, You See, As She Couldn't Answer Either Question, It Didn't Much Matter Which Way She Put It.

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.

Contrariwise, 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.

This Piece Of Rudeness Was More Than Alice Could Bear: She Got Up In Great Disgust, And Walked Off; The Dormouse Fell Asleep Instantly, And Neither Of The Others Took The Least Notice Of Her Going, Though She Looked Back Once Or Twice, Half Hoping That They Would Call After Her: The Last Time She Saw Them, They Were Trying To Put The Dormouse Into The Teapot. At Any Rate I'll Never Go There Again!' Said Alice As She Picked Her Way Through The Wood. "it's The Stupidest Tea-party I Ever Was At In All My Life!

Alice: This Is Impossible. The Mad Hatter: Only If You Believe It Is.