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And ever, as the story drained The wells of fancy dry, And faintly strove that weary one To put the subject by, "The rest next time--" "It is next time!" The Happy voice cry. Thus grew the tale of Wonderland
Lewis Carroll
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The further off from England the nearer is to France-_x000D_ _x000D_ Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance.
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