If kisses fast could flee By letter, then with your sweet lips My letters read should be - Edmond Rostand

"To sing, to laugh, to dream, to walk in my own way and be alone, free, with an eye to see things as they are, a voice that means manhood — to cock my hat where I choose — At a word, a Yes, a No, to fight — or write. To travel any road under the sun, under the stars, nor doubt if fame or fortune lie beyond the bourne — Never to make a line I have not heard in my own heart; yet, with all modesty to say: "My soul, be satisfied with flowers, with fruit, with weeds even; but gather them in the one garden you may call your own.

I know that in the end you'll overwhelm me, but I'll still fight you as long as there's a breath in my body... Yes, you've robbed me of everything: the laurels of glory, the roses of love! But there's one thing you can't take away from me. When I go to meet God this evening, and doff my hat before the lofty gates, my salute will sweep the blue threshold of heaven, because I'll still have one thing intact, without a stain, something that I'll take with me in spite of you: My white plume.

Malebranche would have it that not a soul is left; we humbly think that there still are hearts.