Cyrano De Bergerac
1898
He is the finest poet in Paris, the deadliest swordsman in France, and a man so certain of his own ugliness that he'll watch the woman he loves fall for someone else rather than face rejection. When Cyrano discovers that his cousin Roxane has fallen for Christian, a handsome cadet who cannot string two sentences together, he makes a catastrophic choice: he will help Christian win her, feeding the young soldier the very words of love that Cyrano himself is too afraid to speak. What unfolds is a devastating comedy of wit, honor, and self-sabotage, building toward a conclusion that has moved audiences for over a century. Set against the chaotic energy of 1640s Paris, Rostand's verse crackles with swordfights, theatrical intrigue, and some of the most heartbreaking declarations in literature. This is the story of a man who gives everything away except the truth.
Editions
X-Ray
“A kiss is a secret which takes the lips for the ear.””
— Edmond Rostand
“A great nose may be an indexOf a great soul””
— Edmond Rostand
“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.””
— Edmond Rostand
“All our souls are written in our eyes.””
— Edmond Rostand
“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.””
— Edmond Rostand
“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.””
— Edmond Rostand
“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!””
— Edmond Rostand
“...But...to sing,to dream, to smile, to walk, to be alone, be free,with a voice that stirs and an eye that still can see!To cock your hat to one side, when you pleaseat a yes, a no, to fight, or- make poetry!To work without a thought of fame or fortune,on that journey, that you dream of, to the moon!Never to write a line that's not your own...””
— Edmond Rostand
“My soul, be satisfied with flowers,With fruit, with weeds even; but gather themIn the one garden you may call your own.””
— Edmond Rostand
