Why Is A Raven Like A Writing

And, Has Thou Slain The Jabberwock? Come To My Arms, My Beamish Boy! O Frabjous Day! Callooh! Callay! He Chortled In His Joy.

Would You Be A Poet Before You've Been To School? Ah, Well! I Hardly Thought You So Absolute A Fool.

Now, Here, You See, It Takes All The Running You Can Do, To Keep In The Same Place. If You Want To Get Somewhere Else, You Must Run At Least Twice As Fast As That!

Still She Haunts Me, Phantomwise, Alice Moving Under Skies Never Seen By Waking Eyes.

“i Don't Like The Look Of It At All,” Said The King: “however, It May Kiss My Hand, If It Likes.” “i'd Rather Not,” The Cat Remarked.