A Great Nose May Be An Index

To Joke In The Face Of Danger Is The Supreme Politeness, A Delicate Refusal To Cast Oneself As A Tragic Hero.

A Kiss, When All Is Said, What Is It? An Oath That's Given Closer Than Before; A Promise More Precise; The Sealing Of Confessions That Till Then Were Barely Breathed; A Rosy Dot Placed On The I In Loving.

She Is A Mortal Danger Without Meaning To Be One; She's Exquisite Without Giving Ita Thought; Shes A Trap Set By Nature, A Rose In Which Love Lies In Ambush! Anyone Who Has Seen Her Smile Has Known Perfection. She Creates Grace Without Movement And Makes All Divinity Fit Into Her Slightest Gesture. And Neither Venus In Her Shell, Nor Diana Striding In The Great, Blossoming Forest, Can Compare To Her When She Goes Through The Streets Of Paris In Her Sedan Chair.

Roxane: Live, For I Love You! Cyrano: No, In Fairy Tales When To The Ill-starred Prince The Lady Says 'i Love You!' All His Ugliness Fades Fast-- But I Remain The Same, Up To The Last! Roxane: I Have Marred Your Life--i, I! Cyrano: You Blessed My Life! Never On Me Had Rested Woman's Love. My Mother Even Could Not Find Me Fair: I Had No Sister; And, When Grown A Man, I Feared The Mistress Who Would Mock At Me. But I Have Had Your Friendship--grace To You A Woman's Charm Has Passed Across My Path.

After All, What Is A Kiss? A Vow Made At Closer Range, A More Precise Promise, A Confession That Contains Its Own Proof, A Seal Placed On A Pact That Has Already Been Signed; It's A Secret Told To The Mouth Rather Than To The Ear.