May you not rest, as long as I am living. You said I killed you - haunt me, then.
Nonsense, do you imagine he has thought as much of you as you have of him?
He’s more myself than I am
The tyrant grinds down his slaves and they don't turn against him, they crush those beneath them.
What kind of living will it be when you - Oh, God! Would you like to live with your soul in the grave?
I love the ground under his feet, and the air over his head, and everything he touches and every word he says. I love all his looks, and all his actions and him entirely and all together.