“That's mine!”

“Mine,… Mine is what she is.”

“For what is yours is mine, and mine is yours.”
Quod tuum’st, meum’st; omne meum est autem tuum.

“Are you mine?”
Yes.
“Are you mine?”
Yes.
“Are you mine?”
No.
“No?”
No. I loved being yours. But now I’m mine, which is all I ever was, in the end.”

“And she was mine, she was mine, the key was in my fist, my fist was in my pocket, she was mine.”

“What's yours is mine and what's mine is my own.”

“This miracle of me is mine to own and keep, and mine to guard, and mine to use, and mine to kneel before…The fortune of my spirit is not to be blown into coins of brass and flung to the winds as alms for the poor of spirit.”

“You are mine, you shall be mine, you and I are one for ever.”

“Amazing how the heart clutches at anything familiar, whimpering Mine! Mine!”

“Nothing I counted mine, out of my life,
is mine to take…”