The Alice Through the Looking Glass Log

what kind of insects do you... rejoice in?
    i- i don't rejoice in insects at all, because i'm rather afraid of them.  well at least the large ones.  but, i could tell you the names of some of them.
and of course they answer to the names...
    i never knew them do it.
well what's the use of having names if they don't answer to them?
    no use to them, but useful to the people who name them, i suppose.  if not, why do things have names at all?
i can't say.  furthermore, in the woods over there - they don't have names.  however, go on with your list; you're wasting time.

crawling at your feet, you'll observe a bread-and-butter fly.  its wings are thin slices of bread-and-butter, its body's a crust, and its head is a lump of sugar.
    and what does it live on?
weak tea with cream in it.
    but supposing it couldn't find any?
well then it would die, of course.
    that must happen fairly often.
it *always* happens.

am i addressing the white queen?
    well yes, if you call that addressing; it isn't my notion of the thing at all.

may i help you put your shawl straight?
     i don't know what's a matter with it.  it's out of temper, i think.  i've pinned it there, and i've pinned it there.  there's no *pleasing* it.

but... it must come sometimes to jam today.
    oh, no, it can't.  it's jam every *other* day.

some people have no more sense than a baby.

how old did you say you were?
    i'm, uhhh, seven years and six months.
you never said a word like it.
    i thought you meant 'how old am i?'
if i'd meant that, i'd have said it.

i haven't seen the two messengers either.  they both have gone to town.  just look along the road and tell me if you can see either of them.
    i see nobody in the road.
i only wish i had such eyes to be able to see nobody.  and at that distance, too.  why it's as much as i can do to see real people by this light.

nothing like eating hay when you're faint.
    i should think throwing cold water over you would be better.
i didn't say there was nothing better; i said there was nothing like it.

who did you pass on the road?
quite right.  this young lady saw him too.

let me tell you a tale.  to comfort you.
    is it very long?
yes, it's long... but it's very, very beautiful.  everybody that hears me say it, it either brings the tears into their eyes, or else...
    or else what?
or else it doesn't, you know.  the name of the tale is called 'haddock's eyes'.
 that's what the name of the tale is, is it?
no, that's something quite different.  that's what the name of the tale is *called*.  the name really is, 'the aged, aged man'.
    oh.  so, i ought to have said, 'that's what the tale is called?'
no you wouldn't.  that's quite another thing.  the tale is *called*, 'ways and means', but that's only what the tale is called.  see?
    well what *is* the tale then?
i'm coming to that.  the tale *really* is, 'a sitting on a gate'.

you may read it if you have a mind to.  nobody is hindering you that i know of.

there's no such word in the language.
    it is in this paper.
let it stop there.

fan her head. she'll be feverish after all that thinking.

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