A Man Does Not Fight To Win;

Roxane: His Face Is Like Yours, Burning With Spirit And Imagination. He Is Proud And Noble And Young And Fearless And Beautiful- Cyrano:(losing All His Colour.) Beautiful! Roxane: Yes. What's Wrong? Cyrano: With Me? Nothing. It's Only... Only... (displaying His Bandaged Hand, With A Little Smile.) This Fatal Wound.

A Kiss, When All Is Told, What Is It? An Oath Taken A Little Closer, A Promise More Exact. A Wish That Longs To Be Confirmed, A Rosy Circle Drawn Around The Verb 'to Love'. A Kiss Is A Secret Which Takes The Lips For The Ear, A Moment Of Infinity Humming Like A Bee, A Communion Tasting Of Flowers, A Way Of Breathing In A Little Of The Heart And Tasting A Little Of The Soul With The Edge Of The Lips!

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.

A Bird Who Can Gobble Is Qualified To Teach Crowing.

All Our Souls Are Written In Our Eyes.