'but I Don't Want To Go Among

My Hand Moves Because Certain Forces--electric, Magnetic, Or Whatever 'nerve-force' May Prove To Be--are Impressed On It By My Brain. This Nerve-force, Stored In The Brain, Would Probably Be Traceable, If Science Were Complete, To Chemical Forces Supplied To The Brain By The Blood, And Ultimately Derived From The Food I Eat And The Air I Breathe.

Do Let's Pretend That I'm A Hungry Hyena, And You're A Bone!

When I’m A Duchess,” She Said To Herself (not In A Very Hopeful Tone Though), “i Won’t Have Any Pepper In My Kitchen At All. Soup Does Very Well Without. Maybe It’s Always Pepper That Makes People Hot-tempered,” She Went On, Very Much Pleased At Having Found Out A New Kind Of Rule, “and Vinegar That Makes Them Sour—and Camomile That Makes Them Bitter—and—and Barley-sugar And Such Things That Make Children Sweet-tempered. I Only Wish People Knew That; Then They Wouldn’t Be So Stingy About It, You Know—

Alice 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."

Is Life Itself A Dream, I Wonder?