"Oh, you're sure to do that if you don't stop," said the Cat.
Al-ice knew that this was true, so she asked: "What sort of peo-ple live near here?"
"In that way," said the Cat, with a wave of its right paw, "lives a Hat-ter; and in that way," with a wave of its left paw, "lives a March Hare. Go to see the one you like; they're both mad."
"But I don't want to go where mad folks live," said Al-ice.
"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!" asked Al-ice.
"You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here."
Al-ice didn't think that proved it at all, but she went on; "and how do you know that you are mad?"
"First," said the Cat, "a dog's not mad. You grant that?"
"Yes."
"Well, then," the Cat went on, "you know a dog growls when it's angry, and wags its tail when it's pleased.
