You Must Believe Me When I Believe,

My Heart Always Timidly Hides Itself Behind My Mind. I Set Out To Bring Down Stars From The Sky, Then, For Fear Of Ridicule, I Stop And Pick Little Flowers Of Eloquence.

All Our Souls Are Written In Our Eyes.

Proclaim Your Pride And Bitterness Loudly To The World, But To Me Speak Softly, And Tell Me Simply That She Doesn't Love You.

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.

I-i Am Going To Be A Storm-a Flame- I Need To Fight Whole Armies Alone; I Have Ten Hearts; I Have A Hundred Arms; I Feel Too Strong To War With Mortals- Bring Me Giants!