Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

by Lewis Carroll

Alice! a childish story take, And with a gentle hand Lay it where Childhood’s dreams are twined In Memory’s mystic band, Like pilgrim’s wither’d wreath of flowers Pluck’d in a far-off land.

(Alice had not the slightest idea what Latitude was, or Longitude either, but she thought they were nice grand words to say.)

(she was rather glad there was no one listening, this time, as it didn’t sound at all the right word)

There was nothing else to do, so Alice soon began talking again.

you see, as she couldn’t answer either question, it didn’t much matter which way she put it.

She generally gave herself very good advice (though she very seldom followed it),

this curious child was very fond of pretending to be two people.

‘Who in the world am I?’ Ah, that’s the great puzzle!”

‘Come up again, dear!’ I shall only look up and say ‘Who am I, then? Tell me that first, and then, if I like being that person, I’ll come up: if not, I’ll stay down here till I’m somebody else’—but,

“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!

There ought to be a book written about me, that there ought! And when I grow up, I’ll write one—but

“Explain yourself!” “I can’t explain myself, I’m afraid, Sir,” said Alice, “because I’m not myself, you see.”

“I’m afraid I can’t put it more clearly,” Alice replied, very politely, “for I can’t understand it myself, to begin with;

“So you think you’re changed, do you?” “I’m afraid I am, Sir,” said Alice. “I can’t remember things as I used—and I don’t keep the same size for ten minutes together!”

And yet you incessantly stand on your head— Do you think, at your age, it is right?” “In my youth,” Father William replied to his son, “I feared it might injure the brain; But, now that I’m perfectly sure I have none, Why, I do it again and again.”

“why your cat grins like that?” “It’s a Cheshire-Cat,” said the Duchess, “and that’s why.

“Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?” “That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,” said the Cat. “I don’t much care where—” said Alice. “Then it doesn’t matter which way you go,” said the Cat. “—so long as I get somewhere,” Alice added as an explanation.

“But I don’t want to go among mad people,” Alice remarked. “Oh, you can’t help that,” said the Cat: “we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.” “How do you know I’m mad?” said Alice. “You must be,” said the Cat, “or you wouldn’t have come here.”

“And how do you know that you’re mad?” “To begin with,” said the Cat, “a dog’s not mad. You grant that?” “I suppose so,” said Alice. “Well, then,” the Cat went on, “you see, a dog growls when it’s angry, and wags its tail when it’s pleased. Now I growl when I’m pleased, and wag my tail when I’m angry. Therefore I’m mad.”

“You might just as well say,” added the Dormouse, which seemed to be talking in his sleep, “that ‘I breathe when I sleep’ is the same thing as ‘I sleep when I breathe’!” “It is the same thing with you,” said the Hatter,

I’d hardly finished the first verse,” said the Hatter, “when the Queen jumped up and bawled out, ‘He’s murdering the time! Off with his head!’” “How dreadfully savage!” exclaimed Alice. “And ever since that,” the Hatter went on in a mournful tone, “he won’t do a thing I ask! It’s always six o’clock now.”

“Is that the reason so many tea-things are put out here?” she asked. “Yes, that’s it,” said the Hatter with a sigh: “it’s always tea-time, and we’ve no time to wash the things between whiles.” “Then you keep moving round, I suppose?” said Alice. “Exactly so,” said the Hatter: “as the things get used up.”

Miss, this here ought to have been a red rose-tree, and we put a white one in by mistake; and, if the Queen was to find it out, we should all have our heads cut off, you know.

“Everything’s got a moral, if only you can find it.”

Take care of the sense, and the sounds will take care of themselves.’”

“That’s the reason they’re called lessons,” the Gryphon remarked: “because they lessen from day to day.”

He first concocted Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland as “Alice’s Adventures Underground,” a story to entertain his boss’s young daughter Alice Liddell and her sisters. The girls demanded more and more of the tale, so he expanded it and eventually wrote it down.