Cheshire Cat To Alice Quotes

Where should I go?" -Alice. "That depends on where you want to end up." - The Cheshire Cat.

Alice: Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here? The Cheshire Cat: That depends a good deal on where you want to get to. Alice: I don't much care where. The Cheshire Cat: Then it doesn't much matter which way you go. Alice: ...So long as I get somewhere. The Cheshire Cat: Oh, you're sure to do that, if only you walk long enough.

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 it's tail when it's pleased. Now I growl when I'm pleased, and wag my tail when I'm angry. Therefore I'm mad.

Alice asked the Cheshire Cat, who was sitting in a tree, “What road do I take?” The cat asked, “Where do you want to go?” “I don’t know,” Alice answered. “Then,” said the cat, “it really doesn’t matter, does it?

She who saves a single soul, saves the universe.

We're all mad here.

Oh, you can't help that,' said the cat. 'We're all mad here.

Are you here for a reason, Cheshire? Why, yes, I would enjoy a cup of tea. I take mine with lots of cream, and no tea. Thank you.

One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire cat in a tree. ‘Which road do I take?’ she asked. ‘Where do you want to go?’ was his response. ‘I don’t know,’ Alice answered. ‘Then,’ said the cat, ‘it doesn’t matter.

Cheshire Puss,' she began, rather timidly, as she did not at all know whether it would like the name: however, it only grinned a little wider. 'Come, it's pleased so far,' thought Alice, and she went on. '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. 'Oh, you're sure to do that,' said the Cat, 'if you only walk long enough.

If you don't know where you want to go, then it doesn't matter which path you take.

I don't like the looks of it,' said the King: 'however, it may kis my hand, if it likes.' 'I'd rather not,' the Cat remarked.

Alice didn't think that proved it at all; however, she went on: '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.' 'I call it purring, not growling,' said Alice.

Only the insane equate pain with success." "The uninformed must improve their deficit, or die." _Cheshire Cat

,"I am not crazy, my reality is just different from yours."-Cheshire Cat

You just go where your high-top sneakers sneak, and don't forget to use your head.

Cheshire Puss,' [Alice] began, rather timidly, "`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.' Alice didn't think that proved it at all; however, she went on `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.

Alice: I didn't know that cheshire cats grinned. In fact, I didn't know that cats could grin. Duchess: They can, and most of 'em do.

In the place called Adulthood there are no Cheshire Cats... for they can't endure the suffering of the place.

But I like Alice. And I can tell that she's had to face some tough stuff. You can see it in her face when she thinks you're not looking.

Cheshire Cat: If I were looking for a white rabbit, I'd ask the Mad Hatter. Alice: The Mad Hatter? Oh, no no no... Cheshire Cat: Or, you could ask the March Hare, in that direction. Alice: Oh, thank you. I think I'll see him... Cheshire Cat: Of course, he's mad, too. Alice: But I don't want to go among mad people. Cheshire Cat: Oh, you can't help that. Most everyone's mad here. [laughs maniacally; starts to disappear] Cheshire Cat: You may have noticed that I'm not all there myself.

How is the world inside your mind any less real than the one outside it?

i'm not crazy. My reality is just different for you'res .

In Wonderland, the madder something is, the better it works," the Cheshire cat said. "Which is of course, why you fit in very well.

Save their world. But... come back to mine." "That's rather forward of you, Mr. Cat." He grinned. But it wasn't just like the Cheshire Cat's smile. There was warmth in it, and even love. "I'm not the single young lady who goes knocking on strange barristers' doors," he pointed out. "Hmmph," Alice said, sniffing. "Excellent point.

Alice: Where Should I go? Cheshire Cat: That depends, where do you want to end up?

Cheshire Puss,' she began, rather timidly, as she did not at all know whether it would like the name: however, it only grinned a little wider. 'Come, it's pleased so far,' thought Alice, and she went on. '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. 'Oh, you're sure to do that,' said the Cat, 'if you only walk long enough.” Alice felt that this could not be denied, so she tried another question. `What sort of people live about here?' `In that direction,' the Cat said, waving its right paw round, `lives a Hatter: and in that direction,' waving the other paw, `lives a March Hare. Visit either you like: they're both mad.' `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.

Put out? My dear Gertrud, I have been thinking of very serious things. You cannot expect me to frolic along paths of thought that lead to mighty and unpleasant truths. Why should I always smile? I am not a Cheshire cat.’ ‘I trust the gracious one will come in now and enter her bed,’ said Gertrud decidedly, who had never heard of Cheshire cats, and was sure that the mention of them indicated a brain in need of repose.

Now, what am I to do with this creature when I get it home?" when it grunted again, so violently, that she looked down into its face in some alarm. This time there could be no mistake about it: it was neither more nor less than a pig, and she felt that it would be quite absurd for her to carry it any further. | So she set the little creature down, and felt quite relieved to see it trot away quietly into the wood. "If it had grown up," she said to herself, "it would have made a dreadfully ugly child: but it makes a rather handsome pig, I think." And she began thinking over other children she knew, who might do very well as pigs, and was just saying to herself, "if one only knew the right way to change them--" when she was a little startled by seeing the Cheshire Cat sitting on a bough of a tree a few yards off.

Cheshire Puss,' she began, rather timidly, as she did not at all know whether it would like the name: however, it only grinned a little wider. 'Come, it's pleased so far,' thought Alice, and she went on. '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’m not sure what I had been expecting; maybe some sort of slow fade-out, the way Alice’s Cheshire Cat had disappeared in Wonderland, until only its smile was left.

(At first this struck me as an unusual alliance, but if you think about it, the Disney franchise is staunchly pro-rodent, and its best-known pet pussies, from Cinderella’s Lucifer to Alice’s Cheshire Cat, are all at least mildly villainous.)

CARROLL: In the place called Adulthood, there's precious few golden afternoons. They've gone away to make way for other things like business and housekeeping and wanting everyone to be the same, just like you, all the lives lived in neat hedgerows, all excess banished, all joyous peculiarities excised. It's grim and shabby. There are no Mad Hatters and there are no Cheshire Cats, for they can't endure the suffering of the place. ALICE: Please stop... CARROLL: That's the place called Adulthood... I'm there now. You'll be there soon enough. And you'll never leave... But here and now, in this room, and on this glass plate, and in the story I'm writing, you'll never be there... And you'll never be hurt. And you'll never be heart-sick. And you'll never be alone.... You will be beloved.

Who are you, Patric?” Everly asked. “I know who you are with me. I know who you are with David. I know who you say you are with this other guy. But who are you when no one else is around?” A log in the fireplace crackled and popped. I stared at the wood; the flames devouring it hypnotized me. I thought again of Alice in Wonderland. “Who are you?” the Cheshire Cat liked to taunt. “I don’t know,” I said. “Oh, I think you do,” she insisted. “I think you know exactly who you are. The problem is you’re not allowing yourself to be that person, that whole person. I don’t think you ever have. So, how is David—or anyone—ever supposed to accept you when you haven’t fully accepted yourself?” I stared at the fire. Everly followed my gaze. “Bottom line,” she said, “you have to stop living this double life. You’re miserable. And you’re miserable because you’re never being Patric. You have to learn to just be you. All the time. With everyone.” “And then what?” I asked. Everly smiled and nudged me affectionately with her foot. “What do you care?

But Hock Seng doesn’t contest the foreigner’s words. He’ll put out the bounty, regardless. If the cats are allowed to stay, the workers will start rumors that Phii Oun the cheshire trickster spirit has caused the calamity. The devil cats flicker closer. Calico and ginger, black as night—all of them fading in and out of view as their bodies take on the colors of their surroundings. They shade red as they dip into the blood pool.  Hock Seng has heard that cheshires were supposedly created by a calorie executive—some PurCal or AgriGen man, most likely—for a daughter’s birthday. A party favor for when the little princess turned as old as Lewis Carroll’s Alice.  The child guests took their new pets home where they mated with natural felines, and within twenty years, the devil cats were on every continent and Felis domesticus was gone from the face of the world, replaced by a genetic string that bred true ninety-eight percent of the time. The Green Headbands in Malaya hated Chinese people and cheshires equally, but as far as Hock Seng knows, the devil cats still thrive there. 

How fine you look when dressed in rage.

Shortly after beginning a journey, Alice reaches a fork in the road and asks the Cheshire Cat: “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 quickly added as an explanation. “Oh, you’re sure to do that,” said the Cat, “if you only walk long enough.” —Lewis Carroll (Alice In Wonderland)

True words and logic rarely defeat evil intent.

Cheshire Cat, can you tell where I ought to go from here?” asked Alice. “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.

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Naoko shook her head and laughed. It was a regular sort of laugh, the kind you’d expect from a girl who had received straight A’s in school; yet for some strange reason it lingered long after she had left, like the grin of the Cheshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland.

Les horloges sont des illusions ; le temps n'a d'importance que pour ce que l'on en fait.

You look like a Cheshire cat.” “Welcome to Wonderland, Alice. Have a cracker.” Susannah rolled upright. “Since when are crackers the cure for the grippe?” “It’s not the flu.” Jesse could contain himself no longer. He tossed the almanac in the air. “We’re going to have a baby!” “What? A baby?” Jesse plopped on the bed and scooped her into his lap. “Sleeping a lot, cranky stomach, no poorlies this month. All points to the same thing: hit the bull’s-eye on the first shot! Hallelujah!” Jesse danced a jig around the room and bumped his head on a rafter. “How did you know?” “A large family is a schoolhouse for life. Eat up, Ma.

she’d certainly outlast Alice who, every day, was fading more and more into nothingness like the Cheshire Cat. Except it wouldn’t be her smile that would be the last to go since she never smiled, hadn’t smiled within this hard reality in so long that she wondered if her face muscles remembered which way to contract to make the corners of her lips turn upward.

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." "I don't much care where..." "Then it doesn't matter which way you go." "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." "I don't much care where..." "Then it doesn't matter which way you go." Alice and the Cheshire Cat

It was the Cheshire Cat who had said to Alice, “I’m not crazy. My reality is just different than yours.