To Offend Is My Pleasure; I Love

Where Lurk Sweet Echoes Of The Dear Homevoices, Each Note Of Which Calls Like A Little Sister, Those Airs Slow, Slow Ascending, As The Smokewreaths Rise From The Hearthstones Of Our Native Hamlets Cyrano Act 5.

My Wit Is Sharper Then The Finest Mustache, And When I Walk Among Men I Make Truths Ring Like Spurs.

A Kiss Is A Secret Which Takes The Lips For The Ear.

A Kiss, When All Is Said, What Is It? A Rosy Dot Placed On The 'i' In Loving; Tis A Secret Told To The Mouth Instead Of To The Ear.

Proclaim Your Pride And Bitterness Loudly To The World, But To Me Speak Softly, And Tell Me Simply That She Doesn't Love You.