A Large Nose Is In Fact The

To Offend Is My Pleasure; I Love To Be Hated.

The Dream, Alone, Is Of Interest. What Is Life Without A Dream?

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.

My Wit Is Sharper Then The Finest Mustache, And When I Walk Among Men I Make Truths Ring Like Spurs.

You Must Believe Me When I Believe, And Not When I Doubt.