The King of Hearts has No Moustache:

The lover licks with a butterfly lip; not any Juan can sew a silk ear.

A moustache presupposes a mirror; only by shaving does a man reveal a trace of the monkey still in him.

A paintbrush is a moustache half undone; one pull and it paints its own perfection.

Aspiration lines the moustache no longer tousled by inspiration.

A billet-doux concluded with the devotional: I wear your moustache on my heart.

The moustache belies the mouth it props upon.

Some give the sense of punning on the upper lip; others make the trombone sound of a banana slip.

The symmetry of brow and tache may give spin to the dream of a rotatable face.

Stroke a German moustache and it will purr.

In Italy they’re so skittish that they laugh them up their sleeves.

In England the tache caterwauls from the loss of its imperative.

In London they are worn with the brevity of a ‘must dash!’

In Holland the moustaches snore so forcibly they could almost drag you down to the nether Land of Nod.

In Slovakia they tittle at the tattle of their fuzzy borders.

The Land of Opportunities: In the morning you can leave your moustache in the mirror and by the evening it will have written a smash hit.

A moustache may hover on a face like a quotation cut from its context.

Some moustaches have the quality of a catchphrase that sits on the face as awkwardly as ‘All my days!’ does in the mouths of marauding school children.

In every new epoch old hair is the first to be brushed aside.

Each generation shaves an image of itself out of its immediate predecessor; some outgrow what has gone before, others fall drastically short.

Through the looking glass: A moustache talks back in the antiquated accent of its forefather.

Baudelaire laments with a dandified Ô.

After reading ‘The Nose’ I was left with the distinct impression that it could only have been written by a moustache.

Cervantes begot the exemplary Spanish bigot in the moustache of Don Quixote.

Portrait of A. R-G: Now the shadow of the nose – the nose that supports the mid-south area of the face – divides the corresponding area of the face into two equal parts. The moustache is a wide, covered gallery surrounding the mouth on three sides. Since the width is the same for the central portion as for the sides, the line of the shadow cast by the nose extends precisely to the corner of the moustache; but it stops there.

The Irony of Kierkegaard: By not outwardly wearing a moustache he had the freedom to write under the guise of the inward overbeard.

Benjamin’s moustache is steeped in the arabesques billowing from the allegorical pipe of Baudelaire.

When Hendrick ter Brugghen depicted Democritus as a comic opera singer, he did so with the insight that there is little difference between a buffo and a baffo.

A moustache is an aspect of interior design: living well, looking well. A preened moustache expresses order through the motif of purposeful upkeep: It is easier to cut than to comb; what is easy is not what makes a home.

Every Little Helps: A homely face aligns the chimney, the rug and the slippers.

Milk Moustache: The youthful cry of independence can be heard in the insipid whispers of the pubic gone public.

A moustache just mentions in passing that it has been very cleverly cut.

Half the world went to war with the assurance that the moustache of Keiser Wilhelm II had picked up a message from God.

The Fox and the Sparrow: Surviving on the verge of criminality proper, Zorro rides a black horse whilst the spiv rides the black market. Where Zorro sports the whiplash moustache of a self made man, the spiv wears the sharp cunning of a promise signed in pencil.