A Bird Who Can Gobble Is Qualified

I Have A Different Idea Of Elegance. I Don't Dress Like A Fop, It's True, But My Moral Grooming Is Impeccable. I Never Appear In Public With A Soiled Conscience, A Tarnished Honor, Threadbare Scruples, Or An Insult That I Haven't Washed Away. I'm Always Immaculately Clean, Adorned With Independence And Frankness. I May Not Cut A Stylish Figure, But I Hold My Soul Erect. I Wear My Deeds As Ribbons, My Wit Is Sharper Then The Finest Mustache, And When I Walk Among Men I Make Truths Ring Like Spurs.

It Is At Night That Faith In Light Is Admirable.

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

I Loved But Once, Yet Twice I Lose My Love!

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.