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We have been through too much together,
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and I have grown too fond of you to let you throw your life away.
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I will not let that happen.
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We will stop this, or we will die trying.
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But we will go down fighting,
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not roasted in the belly of some fat bronze bull.
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You're fond of me? You've never even admitted that you like me...
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Don't make a big thing of it.
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I'm marginally less fond of you than I am of him.
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And I'm less fond him than I am of wine, and pies.
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That's probably the nicest thing you've ever said to me.
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I'm so scared.