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: 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 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.

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.

To joke in the face of danger is the supreme politeness, a delicate refusal to cast oneself as a tragic hero.

All our souls are written in our eyes.

Stay awhile! 'Tis sweet,. . . The rare occasion, when our hearts can speak Our selves unseen, unseeing!