Alice did not much like keeping so close to her: first, because the Duchess was very ugly; and secondly, because she was exactly the right height to rest her chin upon Alice’s shoulder, and it was an uncomfortably sharp chin. However, she did not like to be rude, so she bore it as well as she could. “The game’s going on rather better now,” she said, by way of keeping up the conversation a little.
“’Tis so,” said the Duchess: “and the moral of that is—‘Oh, ’tis love, ’tis love, that makes the world go round!’”
“Somebody said,” Alice whispered, “that it’s done by everybody minding their own business!”
“Ah, well! It means much the same thing,” said the Duchess, digging her sharp little chin into Alice’s shoulder as she added, “and the moral of that is—‘Take care of the sense, and the sounds will take care of themselves.’”
“How fond she is of finding morals in things!” Alice thought to herself.
“I dare say you’re wondering why I don’t put my arm round your waist,” the Duchess said after a pause: “the reason is, that I’m doubtful about the temper of your flamingo. Shall I try the experiment?”
“He might bite,” Alice cautiously replied, not feeling at all anxious to have the experiment tried.
“Very true,” said the Duchess: “flamingoes and mustard both bite. And the moral of that is—‘Birds of a feather flock together.’”
“Only mustard isn’t a bird,” Alice remarked.
“Right, as usual,” said the Duchess: “what a clear way you have of putting things!”
“It’s a mineral, I think,” said Alice.
“Of course it is,” said the Duchess, who seemed ready to agree to everything that Alice said; “there’s a large mustard-mine near here. And the moral of that is—‘The more there is of mine, the less there is of yours.’”
“Oh, I know!” exclaimed Alice, who had not attended to this last remark, “it’s a vegetable. It doesn’t look like one, but it is.”
“I quite agree with you,” said the Duchess; “and the moral of that is—‘Be what you would seem to be’—or if you’d like it put more simply—‘Never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appeared to them to be otherwise.’”
“I think I should understand that better,” Alice said very politely, “if I had it written down: but I can’t quite follow it as you say it.”
“That’s nothing to what I could say if I chose,” the Duchess replied, in a pleased tone.
“Pray don’t trouble yourself to say it any longer than that,” said Alice.
First of all, is this quote, grammatically, a sentence?
Secondly, does it mean "Be what you would seem to be"?
In terms of syntax, the crux of the problem for me is the second "than," which appears here: "than what you had been would have appeared." It's problematic because "than what you had been" sounds as if it should be the end of the sentence. But "what you had been" doesn't belong with the "than;" it belongs with "would have appeared to them to be otherwise."
So the sentence must be split up into parts like these:
Never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than
what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been
was not otherwise than (STOP)
what you had been would have appeared to them to be otherwise
As for finding the meaning, let's try to simplify using the same structure:
Do not imagine that you are the same as
what appears that what you were
was the same as
what you had been appeared to be different
And again
Do not imagine that you are
what you were
was
you were different
And again
It is not true that you were different (than you are)
Or put better,
"Be what you would seem to be."
I think this is a sentence, and that it does have this meaning.
But I'm not sure.
A head-splitter of the subjunctive mode!
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