“Cyrano: The leaves---Roxane: What color---Perfect Venetian red! Look at them fall.Cyrano: Yes---they know how to die. A little wayFrom the branch to the earth, a little fearOf mingling with the common dust---and yetThey go down gracefully---a fall that seemsLike flying!”

“They know how to die-a little way from the branch to the earth, a little fear of mingling with common dust and yet they go down gracefully-a fail that seems like flying!”

“Roxane: His face is like yours, burning with spirit and imagination. He is proud and noble and young and fearless and beautiful-Cyrano:(losing all his colour.) Beautiful!Roxane: Yes. What's wrong?Cyrano: With me? Nothing. It's only... only... (Displaying his bandaged hand, with a little smile.) This fatal wound.”

“ROXANE: Live, for I love you!CYRANO: No, In fairy tales When to the ill-starred Prince the lady says 'I love you!' all his ugliness fades fast-- But I remain the same, up to the last!ROXANE: I have marred your life--I, I!CYRANO: You blessed my life! Never on me had rested woman's love. My mother even could not find me fair: I had no sister; and, when grown a man, I feared the mistress who would mock at me. But I have had your friendship--grace to you A woman's charm has passed across my path.”

“Cyrano: I can see him there---he grins---He is looking at my nose---that skeleton---What's that you say? Hopeless?---Why, very well!---But a man does not fight merely to win!No---no---better to know one fights in vain!...You there---Who are you? A hundred against one---I know them now, my ancient enemies---Falsehood!...There! There! Prejudice---Compromise---Cowardice---What's that? No! Surrender? No!Never---never!...Ah, you too, Vanity!I knew you would overthrow me in the end---No! I fight on! I fight on! I fight on!Yes, all my laurels you have riven awayAnd all my roses; yet in spite of you,There is one crown I bear away with me,And to-night, when I enter before God,My salute shall sweep all the stars awayFrom the blue threshold! One thing without stain,Unspotted from the world, in spite of doomMine own!---And that is...Roxane: ---That is...Cyrano: My white plume....”

“A kiss, when all is told, what is it? An oath taken a little closer, a promise more exact. A wish that longs to be confirmed, a rosy circle drawn around the verb 'to love'. A kiss is a secret which takes the lips for the ear, a moment of infinity humming like a bee, a communion tasting of flowers, a way of breathing in a little of the heart and tasting a little of the soul with the edge of the lips!”

“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”