To offend is my pleasure; I love to be hated.
EDMOND ROSTANDRelated Topics
Anand Thakur
To offend is my pleasure; I love to be hated.
EDMOND ROSTANDMy soul, be satisfied with flowers, with fruit, with weeds even; but gather them in the one garden you may call your own.
EDMOND ROSTANDAnd if kisses in these words could travel too, Madam, you’d read this letter with your lips.
EDMOND ROSTANDI am what I am because early in life I decided that I would please at least myself in all things.
EDMOND ROSTANDMy soul, be satisfied with flowers, with fruit, with weeds even; but gather them in the one garden you may call your own.
EDMOND ROSTANDTo offend is my pleasure; I love to be hated.
EDMOND ROSTANDStay awhile! ‘Tis sweet,. . . The rare occasion, when our hearts can speak Our selves unseen, unseeing!
EDMOND ROSTANDYour name hangs in my heart like a bell’s tongue.
EDMOND ROSTANDA kiss is a secret which takes the lips for the ear.
EDMOND ROSTANDA kiss is a rosy dot placed on the “i” in loving.
EDMOND ROSTANDThe dream, alone, is of interest. What is life without a dream?
EDMOND ROSTANDA great nose may be an index Of a great soul.
EDMOND ROSTANDMy 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 ROSTANDMy 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 ROSTANDStay awhile! ‘Tis sweet,. . . The rare occasion, when our hearts can speak Our selves unseen, unseeing!
EDMOND ROSTANDI am what I am because early in life I decided that I would please at least myself in all things.
EDMOND ROSTAND