What wert thou, dream-Alice, in thy foster father’s eyes? How shall he picture thee?
Loving first, loving and gentle: loving as a dog (forgive the prosaic simile, but I know no earthly love so pure and perfect), and gentle as a fawn:
then courteous-courteous to all, high or low, grand or grotesque, King or Caterpillar; even as though she herself a King’s daughter; and her clothing wrought of gold:
then trustful, ready to accept the wildest impossibilities with all that utter trust only dreamers know; and lastly curious-wildly curious,
and with the eager enjoyment of Life that comes only in the happy hours of childhood, when all is new and fair, and when Sin and Sorrow are but names - empty words signifying nothing!
-Lewis Carroll, “Alice on the Stage”
All I was capable of seeing was the dog becoming iridescent; an intense light radiated from his body. I saw again the water flowing through him, kindling him like a bonfire. I got to the water, sank my face in the pan, and drank with him… I drank more and more. I drank until I was all afire; I was all aglow. I drank until the fluid went out of my body through each pore and projected out like fibres of silk, and I too acquired a long, lustrous, iridescent mane. I looked at the dog and his mane was like mine.
A supreme happiness filled my whole body, and we ran together toward a sort of yellow warmth that came from some indefinite place. And there we played. We played and wrestled until I knew his wishes and he knew mine… But his most impish act was to make me scratch my head with my foot while I sat; he did it by flapping his ears from side to side. This action was to me utterly, unbearably funny. Such a touch of grace and irony; such mastery, I thought. The euphoria that possessed me was indescribable. I laughed until it was almost impossible to breathe.
-Carlos Castaneda, “The Teachings of Don Juan: A Yaqui Way of Knowledge”