If we assume that the last breath of, say, Julius Caesar has by now become thoroughly scattered through the atmosphere, then the chances are that each of us inhales one molecule of it with every breath we take.

This is a city where you can go from Bernini to Michelangelo to Julius Caesar to Meier. This is what we want to protect, Rome's double identity. The city as a rigorous protector of its past but also driven towards the future.

As they spoke, the only thing I could think about was that scene from Julius Caesar where Brutus stabs him in the back. Et tu, Eric?

As I love the name of honour more than I fear death.

Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world
Like a Colossus, and we petty men
Walk under his huge legs and peep about
To find ourselves dishonorable graves.
Men at some time are masters of their fates.
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.

Nature must obey necessity. [Julius Caesar]