Venice. Silence all but the jabbering tourists, grumbling water taxis and yapping dogs. The days of Venice are mystical, a realm from an ancient water world. Nights upon the isles are a mesmerizing mystery with foggy passages and cold stonewalls. The gypsy coin peddlers back in Florence and Rome feel like a gossamer memory from youth.
'Who are you?' said the Caterpillar...
'I-I hardly know, Sir, just at present- at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.'
'What do you mean by that?' said the Caterpillar, sternly. 'Explain yourself!'
'I can't explain myself, I'm afraid, Sir,' said Alice, 'because I'm not myself, you see.'
-Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
Listen to wise old Joseph-withers, dear Alice, the man called once Mr. Campbell. He spoke thus:
"You are that mystery which you are seeking to know"
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