The Cat only grinned when it saw Alice. It looked good- natured, she thought: still it had VERY long claws and a great many teeth, so she felt that it ought to be treated with respect.

`Cheshire Puss,' she began, rather timidly, as she did not at all know whether it would like the name: however, it only grinned a little wider. `Come, it's pleased so far,' thought Alice, and she went on. `Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?'

`That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,' said the Cat.

`I don't much care where--' said Alice.

`Then it doesn't matter which way you go,' said the Cat.

`--so long as I get SOMEWHERE,' Alice added as an explanation.

`Oh, you're sure to do that,' said the Cat, `if you only walk long enough.'

Alice felt that this could not be denied, so she tried another question. `What sort of people live about here?'

`In THAT direction,' the Cat said, waving its right paw round, `lives a Hatter: and in THAT direction,' waving the other paw, `lives a March Hare. Visit either you like: they're both mad.'

`But I don't want to go among mad people,' Alice remarked.

`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?' said Alice.

`You must be,' said the Cat, `or you wouldn't have come here.'

Alice didn't think that proved it at all; however, she went on `And how do you know that you're mad?'

`To begin with,' said the Cat, `a dog's not mad. You grant that?'

`I suppose so,' said Alice.

`Well, then,' the Cat went on, `you see, a dog growls when it's angry, and wags its tail when it's pleased. Now I growl when I'm pleased, and wag my tail when I'm angry. Therefore I'm mad.'

`I call it purring, not growling,' said Alice.

`Call it what you like,' said the Cat.

"Even as the Nazgul had swerved aside from the onset of the White Rider, there came flying a deadly dart, and Faramir, as he held at bay a mounted champion of Harad, had fallen to the earth. Only the charge of Dol Amroth had saved him from the red southland swords that would have hewn him as he lay.
The Prince Imrahil brought Faramir to the White Tower, and he said: 'Your son has returned lord, after great deeds,' and he told all that he had seen. But Denethor rose and looked on the face of his son and was silent."
From "The Seige of Gondor," Book V of The Return of the King, part III of The Lord of the Rings, by J.R.R. Tolkien.

I'd hate to do the MLA citation for that one. Anyway, this is my favorite scene from all of my favorite books. It's very well written. You start to feel for Denethore and he becomes more faceted. Don't get me started on the movie version. . . in my opinion they completely butchered this part. They replaced Imrahil with a bloody horse! *grumble grumble* Anyway, I'll spare you my diatribe. Denethor and Imrahil are next.
Referenced from a drawing I did in one of my sketch books (it looks so much better there).

I had this nightmare about wovels over and over again when I was little.
I still have this dream every once in a while and It still scares the sh@t out of me.
It's there eyes that hant me the most. I can feel there growls weaking my whole body.

It's not finished, but who cares.

From Mary Stewarts The Hollow Hills.... will get a description later... and will finish later... not enough time right now... it does look crappy....

From Perdito Street Station, by China Mieville, Lin (the red, scarabish one on the right) is an artist commissioned by Mr. Motley (the mobster on the left) to create a statue.
See, this is what happens when I don't use references.

Based on the book of poetry of Jim Morrison's work- "The American Night vol.1"-by: Jim Morrison :) I love that book mon.

There lie they, and here lie we
Under the spreading chestnut tree

Had to quit for a while.

i sleep. my summer fun.