Quote

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.

Edmond Rostand

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Edmond Rostand
Age: 80 †
Born: 1868
Born: April 1
Died: 1948
Died: December 2
Author
Essayist
Playwright
Poet
Writer
Marseille
France
Edmond Eugène Alexis Rostand
Given
Placed
Sealing
Precise
Confessions
Closer
Rosy
Kiss
Breathed
Till
Dots
Kissing
Oath
Loving
Barely
Promise
Confession

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To offend is my pleasure I love to be hated.
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I loved but once, yet twice I lose my love!
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I am what I am because early in life I decided that I would please at least myself in all things.
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To joke in the face of danger is the supreme politeness, a delicate refusal to cast oneself as a tragic hero.
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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.
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My wit is sharper then the finest mustache, and when I walk among men I make truths ring like spurs.
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A kiss is a rosy dot placed on the i in loving.
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I would die at the stake rather than change a semi-colon!
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Stay awhile! 'Tis sweet,. . . The rare occasion, when our hearts can speak Our selves unseen, unseeing!
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A pessimist is a man who tells the truth prematurely.
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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.
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My soul, be satisfied with flowers, with fruit, with weeds even but gather them in the one garden you may call your own.
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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!
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A kiss is a secret which takes the lips for the ear.
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A bird who can gobble is qualified to teach crowing.
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All my laurels you have riven away, and my roses yet in spite of you, there is one crown I bear away with me... One thing without stain, unspotted from the world, in spite of doom mine own! And that is... my white plume.
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I-I am going to be a storm-a flame- I need to fight whole armies alone I have ten hearts I have a hundred arms I feel too strong to war with mortals- BRING ME GIANTS!
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All our souls are written in our eyes.
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Speak to me...be eloquent, be brilliant for me. Improvise! Rhapsodize!... I ask for cream and you give me milk and water... Please gather your dreams together into words. - Roxanne, Cyrano de Bergerac
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A great nose may be an index Of a great soul
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