Antoine Richis: Why did you kill my daughter?
Jean-Baptiste Grenouille: I just needed her.
Antoine Richis: Very well, but remember this. . .I’ll be looking at you when you’re laid on the cross and the twelve blows are crashing down on your limbs. When the crowd is finally tired of your screams and wandered home, I will climb up through your blood and sit beside you. I will look deep into your eyes. . .and drop by drop I will trickle my disgust into them like burning acid until. . . finally. . .you perish.