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I was so grown and accustomed to be always his double in all places and in all things, that methinks I am no more than half of myself: "Illam meae si partem anima tulit Maturior vis, quid moror altera? Nec carus aeque, nec superstes Integer? Ille dies utramque Duxit ruinam." What is left is not so dear, nor an entire thing: this day has wrought the destruction of both."
Illam mea si partem animce tulit, Maturior vis, quid moror altera. Nec charus aeque nec superstes, Integer? Since that part of my soule riper fate reft me, Why stay I heere the other part he left me? Nor so deere, nor entire, while heere I rest: That day hath in one mine both opprest.
but sometimes a noble sentiment is simply and emphatically expressed "Non genus virum ornat, generi vir fortis loco." He was a careful chooser of words, e.g. "Tu pertinaciam esse, Antiloche, hanc praedicas, Ego pervicaciam aio et ea me uti volo: Haec fortis sequitur, illam indocti possident.... Nam pervicacem dici me esse et vincere Perfacile patior, pertinaciam nil moror."
This interfusion of personality, this vital union of soul, I could not doubt it! but it made me feel my own essential isolation still more deeply, as when the streaming sunlight strikes warmth and glow out of the fire, revealing crumbling ashes where a moment before had been a heart of flame. "Ah te meae si partem animae rapit Maturior vis, quid moror altera?"
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