Well, I had it all once. Fortune, fame. But nothing satisfied.
I have no interest in money or power. I have no interest in being happy. Only satisfied.
Watching your vicious bastard die gave me more relief than a thousand lying whores.
Dissatisfaction breeds dissent, and dissent leads to revolt.
These guys had plenty already, so why’d they want even more? Am I the same? I wasn’t satisfied with the happiness I had with Pochita. I kept dreaming about a better life. I guess we all dream about stuff like that, huh?
