I will not be triumphed over.
Fool! Don't you see now that I could have poisoned you a hundred times had I been able to live without you.
And make death proud to take us.
[At Marc Antony's tomb:] Nothing could part us in life, but now in death we are likely to change places, you the Roman lying here in Egyptian soil, and I, helpless woman that I am, being buried in Italy.
In praising Antony I have dispraised Caesar.
All strange and terrible events are welcome, but comforts we despise.