“You mean you ca’n’t take less,” said the Hatter: “it’s very easy to take more than nothing.”

“I've had nothing yet,'Alice repilied in an offended tone, 'so I can't takr more.''You mean you can't take less.' said the Hatter: ' it's very easy to take more than nothing.”

“Take some more tea," the March Hare said to Alice, very earnestly."I've had nothing yet," Alice replied in an offended tone, "so I can't take more.""You mean you can't take less," said the Hatter: "it's very easy to take more than nothing.""Nobody asked your opinion," said Alice.”

“Mad Hatter: Would you like a little more tea? Alice: Well, I haven't had any yet, so I can't very well take more. March Hare: Ah, you mean you can't very well take less. Mad Hatter: Yes. You can always take more than nothing.”

“The body is soft, beautiful, vulnerable. It’s easy to threaten it. It’s easy to harm it. It takes next to nothing to cause pain, to draw blood, to break bones. Takes next to nothing to blast a body to bits. It’s much harder to protect it, she says, and much more important.”

“Child, to say the very thing you really mean, the whole of it, nothing more or less or other than what you really mean; that's the whole art and joy of words.”