I Would Die At The

Where Lurk Sweet Echoes Of The Dear Homevoices, Each Note Of Which Calls Like A Little Sister, Those Airs Slow, Slow Ascending, As The Smokewreaths Rise From The Hearthstones Of Our Native Hamlets Cyrano Act 5.

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.

To Joke In The Face Of Danger Is The Supreme Politeness, A Delicate Refusal To Cast Oneself As A Tragic Hero.

Speak To Me...be Eloquent, Be Brilliant For Me. Improvise! Rhapsodize!... I Ask For Cream And You Give Me Milk And Water... Please Gather Your Dreams Together Into Words. - Roxanne, Cyrano De Bergerac

Take It, And Turn To Facts My Fantasies.