'Come, there's no use in crying like that!' said Alice to herself, rather sharply; 'I advise you to leave off this minute!' She generally gave herself good advice , (though she very seldom followed it), and sometimes she scolded herself so severely as to bring tears into her eyes; and once she remembered trying to box her own ears for having cheated herself in a game of croquet she was playing against herself, for this curious child was very fond of pretending to be two people. 'But it's no use now,' thought poor Alice, 'to pretend to be two people! Why, there's hardly enough of me left to make one respectable person!'
Oh my goodness.
Alice is me.
I am Alice.
And let me just put it out there that Lewis Carroll was possibly high writing the whole book; Alice in Wonderland is practically a 19th century crackfic.
Oh, but it is so lovely, though.
whimsical flights of fancy.
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