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.
Sometimes it seems safer to hold it all in, where the only person who can judge is yourself.
It gives me strength to have somebody to fight for; I can never fight for myself, but, for others, I can kill.
A bruise is tender
But does not last,
It leaves me as
I always was.
But a wound I take
Much more to heart,
For a scar will always
Leave its mark.
And if you should ask me
Which you are,
My answer is -
You are a scar.