vincit omnia amor
Each defeat makes me want to rise up stronger. Grind my nose to the sandstone and I'll thwart your face down harder till you wince and your body wrenches up in pain and submission. One day I'll be at the top. You'll see me from your insignificant place at the bottom, nearly being blinded by sun as you try to peer up at my face--clad with the same nose you tried to own. There was such passion. I hated him so much it was almost like love. Love conquers all.