“If you are not mine, then you are dead.”

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

“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.”

“You are mine, but you are not mine. I am yours, but you hardly know it.”

“Zack shook his head. "I am glad you aren't mine. You're going to be dead before you're forty."
"No," rumbled my husband's soft deep voice from the hallway. "I'm going to be dead before she's forty.”

“The withering away of illusions is a long and dreary process, like a toothache. But you can pull out a tooth. Illusions, dead, continue to rot within us. And stink. And you can't escape them. I carry all of mine around with me.”

“You are either alive and proud or you are dead, and when you are dead, you can't care anyway.”

“You are mine,” he rasped. “Only ever mine. I accept all that you are, and we can be together.”

“You don't know this yet. But you are Mine
- Wrath”

“I'm nobody's child.
You're mine now. Not my child, but mine, to miss you when you go, to look out for you, to hope you'll be careful.”