You're mine," "Not his. Mine. Only mine. Always mine.

All I'm saying is that I understand if the novelty's worn off and you want to get off the carousel ride now before it kills you.

Etiquette? What kind of etiquette was there in someone trying to murder me?

This is an Aston Martin, Gin.You don't run over dead bodies in an Aston Matin." "Tell that to James Bond

Jasmine smirke at the weapon in my hand. "That little toothpick won't save you, Gypsy." "Touthpick?" Vic muttered in an indignant voice. “Did she just call me a bleeding toothpick? Kill her! Kill her now!

I don't judge you for what you've done, Gin. Why are you judging me for another man's mistakes?

Still, I'd do anything for him. Even smear his clotting blood inside the vehicle of his choosing.