And yet I love him. I love him so much and so dearly, that when I sometimes think my life may be but a weary one, I am proud of it and glad of it. I am proud and glad to suffer something for him, even though it is of no service to him, and he will never know of it or care for it.
He shall never know how I love him: and that, not because he's handsome, Nelly, but because he is more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.
Ian MacKaye was in London while I was living there. We both decided that even though we had very different lifestyles, we had the same mentality - politically, and in a lot of other different ways. His statement was, "We're going to the same place, except you're taking a taxi, and I'm driving my own car." That's me and Ian MacKaye's relationship. I love him, he's great.
I love him for his sake;
And yet I know him a notorious liar,
Think him a great way fool, solely a coward;
Yet these fix'd evils sit so fit in him
That they take place when virtue's steely bones
Looks bleak i' th' cold wind; withal, full oft we see
Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly.