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I wrote my head tags on my feet.
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Trumpets are dangerous in the wrong lungs, and mine are the wrong lungs. I blew a single note near Jericho, just for fun. Some old stones shifted. A goat fell over. A man in Damascus dropped his lunch. I put the horn away and have since kept it under lock.
My sword was so sharp that I had to keep it in a jar. I shaved with it from across the room. In Smyrna I sliced a rumor in two, and both halves ran off in shame. A jeweler once tried to touch the edge, and he is now two jewelers.
Dukes of Brunswick hold a yearly contest in my honor. The prize goes to the man who can tell the biggest lie. I attend only as a judge, for I could never compete, as I tell only the plain truth. This answer won me first prize three times.
Echoes in the Alps are lazy. I shouted my name at a cliff in Switzerland, and the answer did not arrive until the next spring. It came back a bit hoarse, with a slight French accent. Still, I was glad to hear from myself after so long a time.
Mirrors have always been kind to me. One in Paris fell in love and refused to show anybody else. Ladies stood before.