“It’s only a scratch, don’t cut my arm off!”
“Tis but a scratch!""A scratch? Your arm's off!""No it isn't.""Then what's that?""Oh come on, pansy!”
“It’s a Harley Night Rod. She’s the love of my life, so don’t scratch the paint when you get on.”
“I can scratch “scratch myself” off my list of things to do.”
“I want you to take note, Commander, that turning in my badge would be like cutting off my arm. But if it comes down to a choice between the job and my marriage, then I lose the arm.”
“That was before I saw the look on your face when you heard what everyone’s saying. I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”“You would never do anything to hurt me.”“I’d rather cut off my arm,” he sighed.”