Quotes of Cyrano De Bergerac

Cyrano de Bergerac is a play about an eloquent, talented, and brave, but physically unappealing, man and his love for a beautiful woman, Roxane.

 The standard, after-school-special lesson of Cyrano de Bergerac is that we should all look past appearances and try to see people for who they really are.

But things get more interesting if you look at Cyrano (witty but ugly) as compared to Christian, Cyrano's opposite counter part (attractive but ineloquent). Everyone wags a finger at you for judging Cyrano for his appearance, but we’ve got the go-ahead to judge Christian for his stupidity. Think of it this way: Christian can’t help being inarticulate any more than Cyrano can help being ugly. It’s either just as reasonable to condemn Cyrano for having a nose big enough to swordfight, or just as frivolous to look down on Christian for being about as articulate as a chimpanzee.

In essence, we learn from Cyrano that we can’t write off appearances as the domain of the shallow and petty. Even de Bergerac himself, our hero and man of principle, lets his own looks affect his actions. They shape who he is as a character. Looks certainly aren’t everything, but this play reminds us that in society, they aren’t nothing, either.

Through the whirlwind which your eyes stir up inside me. But now, in this blessed darkness, I feel I am speaking to you for the first time."
Cyrano de Bergerac, Act 3

“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.” 


“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.”
 
Most men judge only by their senses and let themselves be persuaded by what they see.

“All our souls are written in our eyes” 
On top of that, insufferable vanity has convinced humans that nature has been made only for them, as though the sun, a huge body four hundred and thirty-four times as large as the earth, had been lit only to ripen our crab apples and cabbages.

“...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 please
at 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...

“Stay awhile! 'Tis sweet,. . .
The rare occasion, when our hearts can speak
Our selves unseen, unseeing!

"To sing, to laugh, to dream, to walk in my own way and be alone, free, with an eye to see things as they are, a voice that means manhood—to cock my hat where I choose—

At a word, a Yes, a No, to fight—or write. To travel any road under the sun, under the stars, nor doubt if fame or fortune lie beyond the borne—

Never to make a line I have not heard in my own heart; yet, with all modesty to say: "My soul, be satisfied with flowers, with fruit, with weeds even; but gather them in the one garden you may call your own.” “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.”