You are welcome to torture me to death for your amusement, only allow me to amuse myself a little in the same style, and refrain from insult as much as you are able.

Having levelled my palace, don't erect a hovel and complacently admire your own charity in giving me that for a home.

If I imagined you really wished me to marry Isabel, I'd cut my throat!' 'Oh, the evil is that I am _not_ jealous, is it ?' cried Catherine.

'Well, I won't repeat my offer of a wife: it is as bad as offering Satan a lost soul.

Your bliss lies, like his, in inflicting misery.