Hamish Ascot: — Mr. Harcourt, time is money.
Alice Kingsleigh: — I'm afraid he most certainly is not.
Helen Kingsleigh: — Alice
Alice Kingsleigh: — Time is many things Hamish... but he isn't money. Nor is he our enemy, Mother.
Hamish Ascot: — Where did you come from?
Alice Kingsleigh: — I walked right through the walls.
— It needs to be purified by someone with evaporating skills, or it will fester and putrefy.
— I'd rather you didn't. I'll be fine as soon as I wake up.
— At least let me bind it for you. What do you call yourself?
— Alice.
— The Alice?
— There's been some debate about that.
— I never get involved in politics. You'd best be on your way.
— What way? All I want to do is wake up from this dream.
Six impossible things. Count them, Alice. One, there's a potion that can make you shrink. Two, and a cake that can make you grow. So, my old foe, we meet on the battlefield once again. We've never met. Not you, insignificant bearer. My ancient enemy, the Vorpal one. That's enough chatter. Three, animals can talk. Four, Alice, cats can disappear. Five, there's a place called Wonderland. Six, I can slay the Jabberwocky.
— Hello. And who might you be?
— These miniscule artisans are my seconds.
— Curious! And I suppose every second counts.
— Count, I wish. They are rather stupid.
— Captain, the ship will run aground. It's impossible!
— You know my views on that word, Mr. Phelps.
— Where's your corset? And no stockings.
— I'm against them.
— But you're not properly dressed.
— Who's to say what is proper? What if it was agreed that "proper" was wearing a codfish on your head? Would you wear it?
— Alice.
— Time and tide wait for no man, Mr. Harcourt.
— Or indeed, woman.
— You did it Alice. The impossible thing.
— Not as impossible as saying goodbye to you, my friends.
He used to say the only thing worth doing, is what we do for others.
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