One's eyes are what one is, one's mouth is what one becomes.

What you don't see with your eyes, don't invent with your mouth

My eyes aren't special, my nose isn't special, my mouth isn't special.

And down his mouth comes to my mouth! and down His bright dark eyes come over me, like a hood Upon my mind! his lips meet mine, and a flood Of sweet fire sweeps across me, so I drown Against him, die, and find death good

Idealism increases in direct proportion to one's distance from the problem.

The French cook; we open tins.