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

And what is a kiss, specifically? A pledge properly sealed, a promise seasoned to taste, a vow stamped with the immediacy of a lip, a rosy circle drawn around the verb 'to love.' A kiss is a message too intimate for the ear, infinity captured in the bee's brief visit to a flower, secular communication with an aftertaste of heaven, the pulse rising from the heart to utter its name on a lover's lip: 'Forever.

My heart to yours sends but one cry:
If kisses fast could flee
By letter, then with your sweet lips
My letters read should be!

She is a mortal danger without meaning to be one; she's exquisite without giving ita thought; shes a trap set by nature, a rose in which love lies in ambush!

Anyone who has seen her smile has known perfection. She creates grace without movement and makes all divinity fit into her slightest gesture.

And neither Venus in her shell, nor Diana striding in the great, blossoming forest, can compare to her when she goes through the streets of paris in her sedan chair.