I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently. And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, “Go to sleep darlings till the summer comes again.”
“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.”
“How do you know I’m mad? “said Alice.
“You must be,” said the Cat, “or you wouldn’t have come here.” Lewis Carroll.
Aim Hrim Klim