My soul, be satisfied with flowers, With fruit, with weeds even; but gather them In the one garden you may call your own. - Edmond Rostand

My nose is Gargantuan! You little Pig-snout, you tiny Monkey-Nostrils, you virtually invisible Pekinese-Puss, don't you realize that a nose like mine is both scepter and orb, a monument to me superiority? A great nose is the banner of a great man, a generous heart, a towering spirit, an expansive soul — such as I unmistakably am, and such as you dare not to dream of being, with your bilious weasel's eyes and no nose to keep them apart! With your face as lacking in all distinction — as lacking, I say, in interest, as lacking in pride, in imagination, in honesty, in lyricism — in a word, as lacking in nose as that other offensively bland expanse at the opposite end of your cringing spine — which I now remove from my sight by stringent application of my boot!

"to travel light, to be at liberty, to look straight, to talk loud and fearlessly,…
to never to write a line that does not ring with the truth, which has its wellspring in the heart."Cyrano to le Bret
-“ to be content to say “my garden is small my fruits and flowers are few but they are mine.

Qui connaît son sourire a connu le parfait.