changed.

"Who are YOU?" said the Caterpillar.

This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice
replied, rather shyly, "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."

"I don't see," said the Caterpillar.

"I'm afraid I can't put it more clearly," Alice replied very
politely, "for I can't understand it myself to begin with; and
being so many different sizes in a day is very confusing."

"It isn't," said the Caterpillar.

"Well, perhaps you haven't found it so yet," said Alice; "but
when you have to turn into a chrysalis--you will some day, you
know--and then after that into a butterfly, I should think you'll
feel it a little queer, won't you?"

"Not a bit," said the Caterpillar.

"Well, perhaps your feelings may be different," said Alice;
"all I know is, it would feel very queer to ME."

"You!" said the Caterpillar contemptuously. "Who are YOU?"

Which brought them back again to the beginning of the
conversation. Alice felt a little irritated at the Caterpillar's
making such VERY short remarks, and she drew herself up and said,
very gravely, "I think, you ought to tell me who YOU are, first."

"Why?" said the Caterpillar.

Here was another puzzling question; and as Alice could not
think of any good reason, and as the Caterpillar seemed to be in
a VERY unpleasant state of mind, she turned away.

"Come back!" the Caterpillar called after her. "I've something
important to say!"

This sounded promising, certainly: Alice turned and came back
again.

"Keep your temper," said the Caterpillar.

"Is that all?" said Alice, swallowing down her anger as well as
she could.

"No," said the Caterpillar.

Alice thought she might as well wait, as she had nothing else
to do, and perhaps after all it might tell her something worth
hearing. For some minutes it puffed away without speaking, but
at last it unfolded its arms, took the hookah out of its mouth
again, and said, "So you think you're changed, do you?"

(...)


{Lewis Carroll}