"One word, Ma'am," he said, coming back from the fire; limping, because of the pain. "One word. All you've been saying is quite right, I shouldn't wonder. I'm a chap who always liked to know the worst and then put the best face I can on it. So I won't deny any of what you just said. But there's one thing more to be said, even so. Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things-- trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important then the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one. And the funny thing is, when you think about it. We're just four babies playing a game, if you're right. But four babies making up a game can make a play-world which licks your real world hollow. I'm on Aslan's side, even if there isn't any Aslans to lead it. I'm going to live as like a Narnian as I can, even if there isn't any Narnia. So, thanking you kindly for the supper, if these two gentlemen and the young lady are ready, we're leaving your court to spend our lives looking for Overland. Not that our lives will be very long, I should think; but that's a small loss if the world's as dull a place as you say."
*Sniffle* :' )
Puddleglum [Speaking to the Witch], Silver Chair, C.S. Lewis
