Edmond Rostand Quotes

Koľká rozkoš! Tušíme sa len. Vy žúžoľ plášťa zriete splývať v dlhý tieň, ja letnej šaty vašej úbeľ vidím zas, ja som len tôňa temná, vy ste svetla jas!

...But...to sing,
to dream, to smile, to walk, to be alone, be free,
with a voice that stirs and an eye that still can see!
To cock your hat to one side, when you please
at a yes, a no, to fight, or- make poetry!
To work without a thought of fame or fortune,
on that journey, that you dream of, to the moon!
Never to write a line that's not your own...

A kiss is a secret which takes the lips for the ear.

"- LE VICOMTE, suffoqué :
Ces grands airs arrogants !
Un hobereau qui... qui... n'a même pas de gants !
Et qui sort sans rubans, sans bouffettes, sans ganses !
- CYRANO :
Moi, c'est moralement que j'ai mes élégances.
Je ne m'attife pas ainsi qu'un freluquet,
Mais je suis plus soigné si je suis moins coquet ;
Je ne sortirais pas avec, par négligence,
Un affront pas très bien lavé, la conscience
Jaune encore de sommeil dans le coin de son oeil,
Un honneur chiffonné, des scrupules en deuil.
Mais je marche sans rien sur moi qui ne reluise,
Empanaché d'indépendance, et de franchise ;
Ce n'est pas une taille avantageuse, c'est
Mon âme que je cambre ainsi qu'en un corset,
Et tout couvert d'exploits qu'en rubans je m'attache,
Retroussant mon esprit ainsi qu'une moustache,
Je fais, en traversant les groupes et les ronds,
Sonner les vérités comme des éperons."
(Acte I, scène IV)

I was wondering aimlessly; too many road were open...too many resolves, too complex, allowed of being taken. I took...by far the simplest of them all.

… Besides, the moment comes, and pity those for whom it never comes, when love resents clever ripostes and nimble repartee, instead of what is deeply felt and nobly told.“ Cyrano to Roxanne

Do you remember the night when Christian courted you under the balcony? All my life is there. I was below, hidden among the shadows while he climbed up to claim the kiss of triumph. And that was only right, I hold no grudges: Molière's a great man and Christian was...

Always the answer — yes! Let me die so — Under some rosy-golden sunset, saying
A good thing, for a good cause! By the sword,
The point of honor — by the hand of one
Worthy to be my foeman, let me fall — Steel in my heart, and laughter on my lips!

Wit now would be to insult the night, nature itself, the jasmine scent, the moonlight; one glimpse of the heavens and their infinite spaces reveals the absurdity of our artifices. What scares me is that the alchemy we share may fail to distil true love, the real, the rare, wasting its time on fanciful pastimes while our sophistication destroys our dreams.

Abia noaptea-i minunat sa crezi in lumina

I fall back dazzled at beholding myself all rosy red, At having, I myself, caused the sun to rise.

Valvert: Villain, clod-poll, flat-foot, refuse of the earth! Cyrano: [taking off his hat and bowing as if the Vicomte had been introducing himself] Ah? … And mine, Cyrano-Savinien-Hercule of Bergerac! Valvert: [exasperated] Buffoon! Cyrano: [giving a sudden cry, as if seized with a cramp] Aï! … Valvert: [who had started toward the back, turning] What is he saying now? Cyrano: [screwing his face as if in pain] It must have leave to stir … it has a cramp! It is bad for it to be kept still so long! Valvert: What is the matter? Cyrano: My rapier prickles like a foot asleep! Valvert: [drawing] So be it! Cyrano: I shall give you a charming little hurt! Valvert: [contemptous] Poet! Cyrano: Yes, a poet, … and, to such an extent, that while we fence, I will, hop!, extempore, compose you a ballade! Valvert: A ballade? Cyrano: I fear you do not know what that is. Valvert: But … Cyrano: [as if saying a lesson] The ballade is composed of three stanzas of eight lines each … Valvert: [stamps with his feet] Oh! Cyrano: [continuing] And an envoi of four. Valvert: You … Cyrano: I will with the same breath fight you and compose one. And, at the last line, I will hit you. <p> Valvert: Indeed you will not! Cyrano: No? … [Declaiming] Ballade of the duel which in Burgundy house
Monsieur de Bergerac fought with a jackanape … Valvert: And what is that, if you please? Cyrano: That is the title. [ … ] Cyrano: [closing his eyes a second] Wait. I am settling upon the rhymes. There. I have them. [in declaiming, he suits the action to the word]
Of my broad felt made lighter,
I cast my mantle broad,
And stand, poet and fighter,
To do and to record.
I bow, I draw my sword … En garde! With steel and wit
I play you at first abord … At the last line, I hit!<p> [They begin fencing] <p> You should have been politer;
Where had you best be gored?
The left side or the right — ah?
Or next your azure cord?
Or where the spleen is stored?
Or in the stomach pit?
Come we to quick accord … At the last line, I hit! <p> You falter, you turn whiter?
You do so to afford
Your foe a rhyme in "iter"? … You thrust at me — I ward — And balance is restored.
Laridon! Look to your spit! … No, you shall not be floored
Before my cue to hit! <p> [He announces solemnly] <p> Envoi <p> Prince, call upon the Lord! … I skirmish … feint a bit … I lunge! … I keep my word!
[The Vicomte staggers, Cyrano bows.]
At the last line, I hit!''

She’s a mortal danger without knowing it,
Undreamed of in her own dreams exquisite,
A roseleaf ambush where love lurks to seize
The unwary heart. The unwary eye that sees
Her smile sees pearled perfection. She can knit
Grace from a twine of air. The heavens sit
In every gesture. Of divinities, She’s most divine.

Čím viac mi srdce berieš, tým viac ho mám!

A man stands straighter under hostile eyes.